Homemaking Tip – Virtues vs Vices

I’ve got a quirk that works for me and against me – one minute it’s a virtue, the next it’s a vice.  What is it?

I make do.

It was evident twenty years ago when we went to the soup kitchen to help serve a meal.  We thought we were just setting up tables, serving food, and washing the dishes, but when we got there the man who unlocked the door said, “No one showed up to organize or cook.  Here’s the closet.  Find something and cook it, will you?”  I didn’t sweat; I didn’t worry; making do is my virtue.  We opened the closet and found some canned chicken on one shelf, a few softening vegetables here and there, and lots and lots of onions.  An hour later we were spooning chicken-gravy-of-sorts over mashed potatoes to the dozens and dozens of people in line. 

I saw it again yesterday when I made split pea soup.  I put a few stocks of old-ish celery, leftover green beans and mashed potatoes, as well as chopped onions and carrots in with the split peas.  If I thought I could have gotten away adding a few mellow apples, a couple of soft oranges, and a leftover peach and pear still in their jar I’d have cleaned out the whole fridge.  After the peas and vegetables had cooked until they were soft, I pureed everything then added milk, a bit of butter, and bacon bits.  (I got the real bacon bits for 50 cents a bag [what a steal] at Grocery Outlet a month ago.)  It was very, very, very good soup and there is lots and lots and lots for the future.  You see, making do is my virtue. 

I’ll let you imagine how happy I was when I found the complete set of The Tightwad Gazette at the library sale for 50 cents.  If there’s one thing a make-doer loves, it’s how to make do more.

But sometimes making do is my vice.  I’m content when I shouldn’t be.  I accept mediocrity until it’s too late.  I use things for which they were not intended.   

If you’ll remember, we have Ande’s wedding in two weeks and Ty’s wedding two months after that.  In addition, we’re going to Colorado sometime next week to welcome Abe home from Iraq.  In short, we need to have our ducks in a row, but  . . . 

• our microwave broke several months ago and we’ve just been making do with the stove and oven.  That may slow us down in the hurry days ahead. 
• our refrigerator has been leaking water for the last several weeks, but we’ve been making do.  That isn’t all bad, the fridge is very clean, what with all the frequent wiping of the shelves, but it does take time to save the floating jalapenos. 
• our washcloths are a bleached-ugly lot and are not at all fitting for guests, but we’ve been making do because they’re clean, don’t have holes, and we have lots of them.
• one of our guest beds is hard as a rock, but we’ve been making do with it because it’s better than a too soft air mattress.  That same guest bed doesn’t have a pretty bedspread either, because . . .  blankets will do. 
• I’ve been using Calvin’s shoes for the last year and a half to jog in.  Sure, sure, his are two sizes too big, but I’d rather shuffle than have pinched foot.  It’s not a big deal here where no one (except our two neighbor farmers) sees my feet, but I need something to wear in Colorado where lots of people will see my feet.

 Can you see where making do has landed me?  In a mess of make do. That’s where.  And no way to undo it soon enough. 

Good thing I can . . . always make do.

Have you got a twin virtue and vice?  Pray-tell what is it?