Our story so far: Decision paralysis was beginning to affect our church renovation. We were faced with decisions that affected the look of the entire church cum house, and we would have to look at them every day: Wall paint and trim.
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The next day (and I’m not compressing chronology here—literally the next day), Tyler gathered You-Can-Call-Me-Al and me in the great room to start measuring for trim. I was supposed to be taking notes, but the conversation was over my head about ninety seconds in. I knew what a baseboard was and I understood we needed some sort of wood around the windows and doors, but after that, I was lost. You-Can-Call-Me-Al threw around words like casing and chair stops and measurements like five-and-a-quarter topped with one-and-seven-sixteenths, and I said, “Wait, huh? What am I writing down?”
Tyler threw up his hands.
You-Can-Call-Me-Al, with all his people-pleaser mediation skills, suggested we call his Trim Guy.
Before Tyler could say “What’s his number?” You-Can-Call-Me-Al dialed his cell and left a message for Trim Guy.
A few hours later, Trim Guy was standing in our great room with thick books of trim descriptions and a clip board.
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Today’s headline is quote from Charles Eames. He and his wife “Ray” were 20th century American designers.
Tomorrow: Learning a foreign language. Read it here.