There are a few DIY tasks around the home I can handle, a few I can’t. I’m a seasoned painter, when I want to be, despite the fact that most every room in our house is overdue for a makeover. I can tackle minor plumbing jobs; replace a tap or a toilet, even though my wife takes issue with the fact I repaired a leaking shower nozzle with a wine cork. Don’t laugh, it worked. In-wall repairs are beyond my expertise level, so until I get around to calling a plumber, problem solved. Of course in the interim, the shower is out of commission, but at least the tub’s still functional.
Years back I installed our dishwasher, although I won’t ever do so again. The struggle to connect the water line in such an incredibly tight space, and not kink it, prompted a proliferation of profanities that mirrored the Old Man’s battle with his furnace, in the film ‘A Christmas Story’. To my credit, the machine worked flawlessly, not a leak in seven years. But as appliances age, problems arise, and a burned out heating element and cracked upper tray, prompted the need for a replacement. And last month when my wife advised she’d decided on a new high-end Bosch, I handed her $150 cash, the cost of installation. A small price to pay for two hours of hell, averted.
I’ve installed four, but don’t get me started on the flush-mount models. Remember the issue with the dishwasher? Confined space and inadequate instructions equals profanity-ridden tirades, projectile screwdrivers, and cocktails at 10 a.m.
My drywall skills are questionable, according to a few critics. I’ve completed two projects, experimenting first with a spare room in the basement, eventually graduating to the family room. The process was challenging, especially when you consider I work alone (and if you’ve ever applied 8’ by 4’ sheets of ½“ drywall to a ceiling, you understand). The results were acceptable, not pristine, but not terrible. If you choose to believe the critical few, my taping and sanding left a bit to be desired. In the quest for some non-partisan feedback, I asked my good friend and real estate agent to come over and provide me with a professional opinion. After carefully surveying my work, in an environment where I manipulated the lighting to my advantage, he flatly replied, “you’re going to want to sell this house one day, I’d recommend hiring someone next time.”
I guess handy, is in the eye of the beholder.
And although I ‘be-holden’ tools from time to time, some projects are better left to the professionals. Laminate floors, hanging a door, anything to do with home theatre and stereo installation, I can handle. No problem.
Building a shed from the ground up, rebuilding a 1967 Mustang, installing a new Bosch dishwasher, beyond my pay grade.
The infamous Red Green (Steve Smith), Canada’s greatest ‘do-it-your-selfer’ and purveyor of the handyman’s secret weapon – duct tape, once said, “If the women don’t find you handsome, they should at least find you handy”.
Well said Red.
Arguably, I’m a bit of both.
And how about you?
Handsome, pretty, handy?
Until next time,
Keep your stick on the ice.