Maybe.
Might
also be a bit of inexperienced stupidity.
I’ve
been thinking about times when something I’ve done has led to
something unexpected. Not judging the positives and negatives,
just whether or not I should have known better.
Terry
and I owned a house once. The property was surrounds by numerous
trees, including dozens upon dozens upon dozens (upon dozens)
of oaks. The annual autumn leave drop was ridiculous.
The
first year we were there, we made the decision to clear out a
few trees from the yard. They were already causing some headaches,
and the damage potential from their location was pretty high.
So, down came three large trees.
As
we cleared the trees and raked up leaves, a decision needed to
be made about where to move the debris. Outside the fence in the
backyard were plenty of spots to use, so we grabbed tarps and
wheelbarrows and rakes and more, then moved all of it into an
area way out back.
A
few weeks later, something occurred to me. We had basically built
a glorious hotel for wildlife. Whether you want to consider logs,
branches, leaves and other assorted natural cuttings as providing
structure, safety and bedding or not, the reality is there weren’t
a lot of places to convert into a den nearby before we dragged
stuff over and set things up.
You
could easily make the argument we had built a clubhouse for deer.
(By
the way, where did clubhouses go? And, I can’t believe I may have
to say this, but sure: A clubhouse is kind of like a cross between
a shed and a treehouse, you use it for your group of friends to
gather in but it’s on the ground so you don’t climb up a ladder.
I actually went out to look and see if they were possibly a thing
and I was just out of touch with kids building things and hanging
out in the yard. When three of the first five results offered
“clubhouse sandwiches” and a batch of recipes, I decided I didn’t
need to dig into the question any more deeply. I had an answer.
Not to where they went, just that they were gone.)
The
deer in a clubhouse concept leads me to the real question here:
How often do you come across unintended consequences while you’re
doing something?
It
doesn’t have to be a massive, multiday, yardwork project. Could
just be that time you were washing the kitchen floor and had managed
to trap yourself in a corner. The idea is that you made a decision,
did the work, and then near the end (or a bit after completing
everything) you realized you might have made a mistake. Maybe,
just maybe, a brief pause to consider a few things at the start
would have worked in your favor.
I
get that this admission is going to label my age a bit in our
wireless society, but the way some of my furniture is set up in
my home is a direct result of separate choices. The previous owners
had run wires for things like television cables, so we put things
into our rooms based on where to place the televisions. I’m not
sure that the previous owners understood they were deciding the
future locations of generations of dressers, sofas and nightstands,
but there you go.
(Another
side note. If it just so happens that you are faced with a coaxial
cable dilemma of sorts, and you decide you’re going to move things
around, look before you drill. Another friend decided she would
be changing the carpets in a few years. Told her husband he could
move some things since the holes in the carpet wouldn’t be an
issue for long. He picked the best place to drill two new holes
in two of the bedrooms, grabbed the power tools and went to work.
Turned out the hot water pipe to the dishwasher went right under
one room, and the water pipe to the front-of-the-house spigot
went right under the other room. In an impressive act that deserves
credit despite the results, he hit both of the pipes, took a break
for lunch, and found water spraying around the basement forty-five
minutes later.)
The
world of ambition is filled with good intentions. This does not
mean the perfect arrival at expected results. And that’s not always
the result of mistakes, problems or even stupidity. Sometimes,
the deer just move in.