diy: an obsession

Somewhere along the way I became a bit of a DIY freak.  There is not much that I like more than making everything myself.  I’m not really there yet – there are plenty of things left to learn, and I need a lot more space than our 2 bedroom apartment affords.  However, I can’t stop myself from ‘preparing’.

I have books about organic vegetable gardening and have designed the garden (despite not having one and not knowing what it will be like).  I am knitting feverishly – for friends, for myself, for children I don’t have and might never have.  I have piles of recipes for jams/sauces/relishes, because I figure once I have that garden I’ll have leftover produce.

I bake from scratch and am wondering whether I can grow some wheat and make my own flour.  I watch diy shows where people build their own houses, their own furniture, their own staircases.  I mean really, when am I likely to want to build a staircase?  I want to find hand powered clothes washers and juicers and I want to make my own soy milk.

When did this happen and how?  I’m Gen Y, aren’t I meant to be obsessed with the latest computer, the latest mobile phone?  And yet, I feel complete with a 10 year old computer, a mobile that doesn’t let me use the ‘delete’ button and I have a desire not to replace the phone.  Ever.

I’m lusting over sewing machines, birdbaths and baby clothes.  Where’s the radical feminist my high school wanted?  Honestly, I think this is it.  This is what my life so far has prepared me for.  The more I learn about climate change, the more I realise that DIY isn’t such a bad idea.

Incidentally, I’m not surprised people get climate change induced depression.  I think its the DIY lust which gets me through those feelings day-to-day.  Time for a navy shower and a home made face scrub, then bed.