Tools of the trade...

For Christmas, E. gave me Circulon pots and pans, unsolicited.  I have wanted a set since we were first married - they were extravagant and years ago, I teased, "Now, if I had those pans, I'd be a "real" wife".  But the Circulon mystic had long since left my radar, so when I opened them - I went - well - a little lunatic.  I was the Christmas morning three year old simultaneously shriek giggling, tearing  and jumping.   Good Times.

Later last week, as I sauteed the main ingredient for French Onion Soup I found myself glued as the speed with which the evenly glazed onions appeared in the dutch oven.  Impressive.  My pronouncement, "I LOVE these pans...this is amazing." It reminded me of a few things my dad might say about the scene, first, "You need the right tools for a job," and second, "You get what you pay for."

I'll grant these statements true, and not just because I've heard them no less than 300 times.  I started thinking about tools and paying in regards to writing.  I desire to write good poetry, but the truth is ...  I jot out a poem's rhyme and meter...and as my daughter starts to decipher and assess I see the page properly penned a bleeding red mess. In pan terms, my writing would be found in the Dollar Tree's  kitchen "a la China" aisle. I have thought, well more hoped, maybe Mr. Chesterton would deem Dollar Tree a good start... "if it's worth doing, it's worth doing badly" and all.

In short, I have very few tools for writing, and those I have, I don't know how to use. As for payment, my repertoire of knowledge  is more akin to a kiddie bucket than a reservoir... I get to start somewhere, and not being a prodigy of any sort, me thinks it must be in the "bad"lands.