Introduction to the Hands Series

There's a certain empowerment you get when you can work *well* with your hands.

At least, that's what I think.

I've never been one who's "good-with-the-hands," at least, that's the running joke between my sisters' and I. If someone was to rattle off a list of good-hand-techiques, give me the list, and ask me to check the YES or NO box, most would have sharp marks for el negativo.

Can you braid hair? NO!

Can you change a tire? NO!

Can you wrap a present without it looking like a half eaten pillow? NO!

Can you paint a picture that's aesthetically pleasing? NO!

Can you make pottery? Yes.

Does it look better than what a third grader would make? NO!

Can you hem a pair of pants? NO!

Can you make a blanket? NO!

Can you decorate a cake? Hmm, kind of.

Does it look nice? Sort of.

Now wait a minute. You're starting to think I'm like really incompetent, right? Well, that's just not true. There are many things I can do with my hands. (Get your minds out of the gutter) Honestly, I'm not too great performing that either. But I am good at these things:

Can you make a poster? YES!

Can you organize just about anything well? YES!

Are you a thorough cleaner? YES!

Do you have pretty good attention to detail? About the important things, yes.

So enough with this introduction, let's get on with it. So what you know about now is that I have a history of not being "too-good-with-the-hands." It's endearing, I guess. But there comes a point where I just look a bit helpless. And that's not a good thing. There comes a point when, for example, my Aunt Vivian asks me a simple task:

"Could you wrap my Bridal Shower present for Mary?"

"Sure!" (Although I know in my head it's gonna look rough).

What ends up happening is this: there are about three huge wads of wasted wrapping paper in trash bag (electric blue, completely unnoticeable). I've been in there for about twenty-minutes, and people are starting to arrive for the shower. Finally, there's salvation. One of my cousins, Karen, comes in and sees that I'm having some major trouble.

"Let me help you with that," she says kindly, but I feel like a ten-year-old. I'm twenty-four and a half, by the way.

I just want to be rid of most of these situations. That's why I've made this a goal of mine (and simulatenous writing assignment) to get GOOD with my hands. Maybe even great! Come join me as I take a journey through the world of hand coordination, hand flexibility, hand dexterousity, hand magic! Let see if we surprise ourselves.

Here's what I have on the line-up so far for Projects:

--Change a bike tire

--Change my oil

--Learn how to braid hair Corn rows, possibly (a little ambitious) from Black Ladies' Beauty Salon.

--Learn how to sew (hem my pants)

--Learn how to knit (I could be in lots of clubs)

--Learn how to make a piece of pottery that looks good!

--Wrap a present really well.

--Learn how to fold an EZ fold map!

--Learn how to cook a really complex meal.

That's it for now. Jane had a cool suggestion that I go to a Nursing Home or someplace like that, and talk to old people who've entirely (or almost entirely) lost control of their hands due to arthritis, some other problem. I think that could add something more serious, more emotional to the big picture.