Bookcase I

My bookcase project begins! This morning on my way to work I stopped by Ace Hardware for wood-finishing supplies. I love Ace. It's full of tools & paint & bags of ready-mix concrete & bins of screws & a whole lot of other things that make me happy just by existing. The Ace in Palo Alto is also staffed by middle-aged men who look as if they spend their weekends doing complicated things with dove-tail joins & tablesaws. In another place and time they'd look at me and tell me to go ask my husband - but this is Palo Alto in 2007, so instead they recommend which kind of tung oil they like best to finish their own projects, and when I check out, the guy I've been talking to accords me the ultimate badge of honor:

"You must really know what you're doing," he says, looking down at my double pack of tack cloth.

I grin. "First time, actually," I say. I haven't felt so proud in weeks.

All of which causes me to think, what about the kids whose Moms aren't also devotees of hardware stores and whose Dads never rewired lamps with a small daughter looking on? Do those kids not get to make their own bookcases, because hardware stores & tools & sandpaper are unfamiliar territory instead of a comfort zone?

That sucks.