Spackle…

I am an excellent spackler.  I learned this about myself in Kindred.  Old houses with plaster walls have lots of spackling opportunities.  Cracks and years of dings and dents beg for the attention of a spackler who pays attention to detail.  You have to love those old houses, full of character and evidence of lives lived in them. No amount of spackle can change that.

I became a very skilled spackler over time – you could say I was spackling royalty – indeed, a veritable Queen of Spackling.  To be an excellent spackler you have to be able to know just the right amount to apply – not too thick and not too thin – you have to be able to exercise impecable control.  Plus, you have to possess strong technique.  Smooth and steady with an even amount of pressure. I had it all back then – mad skills and the perfect canvas on which to display them.

I no longer live in an old house with plaster walls.  No more character to find in every crack, ding and dent. Now I live in a relatively new house.  I have had to segue my spackling talent to other areas. Recently I recognized that I had been redirecting my spackling talent toward my face. 

I am not a big makeup wearer, but over time I have become quite a devotee of face lotions, creams and potions.  I was going through my daily ritual a couple of weeks back and I realized that applying my standard trifecta of face lotion, cream and potion layers was very similar to spackling.  I start with a potion (they actually call it a serum – but that is merely dressing it up a bit so they can charge more).  The potion needs to be thinly applied with smooth and steady upward strokes.  After the potion dries to the touch it is time for the lotion.  The lotion has a different consistency than the potion – thick and creamy.  The lotion requires a different amount of pressure and allows for less room for error.  Finally, the cream is applied only in the eye and lip area very gently and the application must be thinner than the lotion, but thicker than the potion.

Three layers, three different applications – all of which require impecable control and strong technique.  I surmise it is good I moved to a newer house without plaster walls as it was probably a good time to redirect my spackle talents.   My face, like the old plaster house, requires fairly constant attention; undoubtedly, my laugh lines and wrinkles are not unlike the house’s cracks, dings and dents.  Perhaps my face evidences other qualities the old house in Kindred had – character and evidence of a live lived in it.  Let’s hope no amount of lotion, cream or potion can change that.

Day two hundred and forty-eight of the new forty – obla di obla da

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