My dear, that wasn't stupid. That was an example of experimentation.
Now, when we were cutting crown moulding and DH couldn't figure out to cut the angles quite right, and I figured out how to do it by experimenting with some boards myself, and then told him exactly how to place the board and the blade and he did it, shook his head, then turned the board upside down to face in the opposite direction and cut the board wrong again, that was a stupid thing.
He did the same thing 3 more times before he said to me, "Now how should I hold this board to get it to come out right?"

Gosh, I'm hoping you're only asking about stupid things I've done with my old house, 'cause if I have to fess up to all the stupid things I've done in other areas of my life, it's going to take awhile....!

I think the stupidest thing I do (and do and do and do, I never seem to learn!) is buy part of a project's supplies before I've really planned it through. So I wind up with the perfect faucet that won't work with the perfect sink; or I buy stuff for the project that really ought to be on my list without really thinking if I have time to add it to my (never-ending, and ever growing) list.

The second stupidest thing I do - or maybe it's a tie - is always ridiculously underestimating the amount of time something will take me to do. Often I am starting from scratch to learn a skill while simultaneously expecting that I have already mastered it so the project won't take that long. Sunday nights are usually fraught with tension in our house over how much wasn't accomplished during the weekend's efforts.

Which leads me to think that probably the *dumbest* thing I do is put so much pressure on my myself, my dear husband and our marriage to get all the work done. You know, if it's not done, so what? Either we'll get to it next weekend (month, year, decade), or our heirs will get stuck with the project. (Or we'll re-plan and eliminate it altogether; a tactic I use a lot!)

Today was a beautiful day here: warm, clear, breezy and very green because of all the rain. I only did about half of what I had on my little list, but at least three or four times I stopped and admired the day, my farm and was grateful for the amazing blessing of being able to live here.

So what if my husband backed the trailer over the pots of rooted heirloom grapes? They needed to be lined out soon, anyhow. Now, I've put 'em on the list for tomorrow!

Molly~

I wish I had a better picture, but the cutting mistake made by the maker of our barn has been in place for 117 years and is part of its charm. At the peak of the barn the date was cut into the boards "June 20 1889" However it is obvious that they cut out the J and then cut the angle on that board, because the J is backwards. I suspect that frugality was the reason for not replacing it

{{!gwi}}

I was curious to see it, here it is.

Yes, I meant to communicate "stupid things" I've done in my old house. Otherwise, I would quickly reach the limit with postings.

There is a reason I now always have a spray bottle of water next to me as I heat gun. Heat guns get hot. Former owners may have filled holes with rags. The combination is frightening.

I think one of the stupidest things I've done is to explore new skills on the front of the house. I just wanted the house to look better from the street so I dove into the stripping and painting process. I don't think many people would notice the areas that bother me. I now know I should have learned on a less visible area of the house.

Sharon, how long will it takes for these errors to become charming? Maybe I'll start calling these blunders future charm. That's a great barn and I love the "mistake".

I also collect "stuff" that we, or others, may find useful. I have stacks of old windows with great glass in them. I do harvest the glass for windows I am working on, but there is far more than I will ever need. I have doors, maybe 20 deep, leaning against the wall in my barn. I couldn't have them go to the dump or get burned. I have probably salvaged enough doorknobs to furnish my street.

As part of an old house group, my husband and I were given a chance to strip three old houses destined to be torn down. A new science building would replace them. It was as if an addicted person was placed at the source. These items will all be offered for donation to benefit the organization. I will make the appropriate donation for the things I need. Unfortunately, I am also making donations for things I might need. After you walk past all the doors and windows you won't even notice the other items. The junk men know my name and I have their phone numbers. Sometimes I just find things next to my gate. Instead of becoming the old lady with all of the cats, I will be the one with all of the house parts.

Anyone remember the movie "Burnt Offerings"? My husband is sure I'll be moving up to the attic. He's wrong. I prefer the loft in the barn.

"long will it takes for these errors to become charming?" Maybe you have to wait for the maker to die? I find it hard to stop wincing at my own mistakes and regard them as quaint features.

What a great, great thread! Now I'm going to think of myself as just *beginning* the process of adding charming quirks to our (not very old 1912 house) as we begin the renovation. If the stairs don't line up, I'm going to think it charming and quaint. Must--Practice--This--Form--Of--Meditation.

abfab