Remembering What’s Forgotten

When Jon  started making pizza a few months ago, he had a hard time stretching out the crust in the pan.  I took over, having an idea of how it’s done from watching other people do it (and, since I’m half Italian, I figured it was probably genetic).  Then, about a month ago, Jon remembered that, as a kid, he worked in a pizza parlor and used to make the pizza.  It all came back to him, and there he was in our kitchen, all but twirling the pizza dough on his fingers.

That’s what happened to me today as I was putting the glass in my storm windows.  I remembered that I didn’t need to use glazing points, (those little pieces of metal), to hold the glass in.  I thought I remembered using the glazing itself, but when I started working with it, setting the glazing in the routed out space for the glass, it just didn’t seem right.  I remembered it being easier but couldn’t recall how I used to do it.  By the time I got to the third window, it came back to me, just like that, just like Jon and the pizza dough.  You set the glass in with caulk then use the glazing. (for those who don’t know, glazing is that putty stuff on the outside of the window that hold it in and sheds the rain).  I thought how remarkable it is that even thought we may forget such things, they’re still there somewhere inside of us.  It’s just a matter of somehow conjuring them up.

What a pleasure it was that the hardware store was only 5 minutes away instead of a half hour like it would have been at the old house.  I got the caulk and a caulk gun and picked up lunch at the Co-op too, (frozen veggie Nan-wiches) and was home in 20 minutes.

Now I just hope the glass in the windows I used the glazing on stay in place so I won’t have to redo them all.

While I was messing with the storms, Jon was painting my studio.  He woke up all excited this morning at the idea of priming the north wall.  It was sweet of him and his smile was enchanting, but I didn’t get it myself.  Not until he stated putting the yellow on the front of the building. I was ready to prime what needed to be primed and leave the rest for the spring, but Jon insisted on getting some yellow paint today.  It’s not the way I would have gone about painting the studio, but Jon’s way is much more fun and less boring than priming it all white then getting to the color. “Oooh, doesn’t she look pretty,” I said as I watched Jon paint.  I finished my windows and got another paintbrush to help.

We were lucky, today was a gorgeous day, like one in early spring, warm in the sun and comfortable with a sweatshirt on in the shade.  But tomorrow winter is supposed to return.  I don’t think we’ll get in much more painting this year, but at least now I’m inspired and won’t be dreading doing  it in the spring.