I spent the first 50 years of my life following the rules. As a young person, I thought I'd go to hell if I didn't follow the rules. The older I've gotten the less I follow the rules. I'm not staying that I break the law because I don't. I do, however, think much more for myself these days and if I want to do something that won't hurt someone else and makes me happier, I do it.
Case in point are these paint brushes. Nell gave me a big set of paint brushes with really long handles. I'm sure there is a good reason for the long handles but I didn't like them. I've poked myself with them more than once.
This past weekend I spent time with my dad out in his wood shop. I asked him to cut off the ends of my brushes. Then I had the best time using his belt sander to smooth and point the ends. I was so proud of myself. I felt like I'd built a building. When I visit my dad I'm not allowed to touch the saws. That would usually irritate me, but I like my fingers a lot so that's a rule I don't buck.
I know this little rebellion on my part will upset some people. I once told a lady at the Art Supply store that I was going to cut the handle off a brush I was buying. The poor lady almost had a stroke. I did learn my lesson with the brush. I tried to break it off with my hands and then I had a really rough, ragged end on my brush. These days I wait for a saw and a sander.
The best part about this whole adventure into the world of wood working was spending time with my dad. More on that later.