Architect: (n) a person who designs buildings and often supervises their construction.

Have you ever been so ignorant about a subject that even as you explained how ignorant you were, you said something ignorant? That’s the way I feel about building anything.

When I look at the meticulous qualities an architect must possess, measuring corners to establish an edifice, I am not only in awe, but also baffled.

When I was seventeen years old, I took a crack at my only carpentry and building project.

Our dog required a house. This is commonly referred to as a dog house.

If you look at one, it doesn’t seem terribly complicated–basically four walls and a roof. The mutts rarely require a floor.

So I found some scrap wood back behind the local lumberyard and was delighted when they told me I could have it. I purchased some nails from the hardware store, acquired a hammer and saw and set in motion to build my dog a home.

I am not a profane person. But I have never done so much cussing in all my life.

It took me three days to finally get all the pieces to fit and a roof on the house, only to discover that when I set it on the ground, it was crooked. One of my friends affectionately referred to it as “The Leaning Tower of Bow-Wow.”

I was humiliated.

I tried to correct my mistake by filling in some dirt in one corner, to make the construction appear even but then it went from leaning to tilted.

It gave me a great appreciation for those who know how to take nothing and turn it into something.

Fortunately for me, my dog was not picky.

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