on Friday night, I was up pushing brads into a wood block car, painted to resemble a hedgehog. It got especially tricky at the end, when most of the surface was covered with points. I remembered that I have a stash of old stuffed animals in the back of the closet for an art project, so I was able to find the perfect size eyes and nose. After starting the car on Thursday, I had spent the whole day Friday cleaning, shopping and cooking for company, and Kevin had to work late, so I did not get started working on this until 10 pm. He cleaned and made more bread dough while I grabbed each nail with pair of pliers, dipped it wood glue, then PUSHED it hard into the wood (the wood swells slightly when painted). There was occasionally swearing, the usual "why do I do this to myself, I obviously need more therapy..." comments, and even once or twice around 3 a.m., I thought, "you could just stop this and go to sleep, no one cares about this thing", but my hands kept doing it. I need to research "compulsive making". So Kevin comes up to say good night at about 1, and I announce that I am going to run out of brads (I had 6 boxes) before I finish, that means that I will have to get up at 7 and run to Lowes in the morning before I get in the car at 9 to deliver my piece to SECCA in Winston Salem (about an hour away) and drive back before my company gets here.
Then my amazing husband goes downstairs, and comes back up 5 minutes later with a coil of wire exactly the right thickness, and a set of wire cutters. "You can use this for the more delicate barbs around the face", he says, and "I'll drive you to Winston Salem in the morning to deliver the car so you don't get into an accident".
I finished at about 5 a.m., got a few hours sleep before Kevin put a travel mug of coffee into my one hand, a bagel in the other, and drove me to Winston Salem with my shoebox full of hedgehog. Lucky girl.