I'm not handy. I long to be. I strive to be. But it doesn't come easily.
In my first apartment when confronted by water pouring out of the back of my toilet tank and flooding the bathroom and hallway, I sensibly made a call -- to my boyfriend who was 1,000 miles away. That's when I learned how to turn off the water.
Years later, while driving back from Florida in my mother's boyfriend's car, I dropped a gum wrapper into the cigarette lighter receptacle. My mother insisted I get it out immediately before it caught on fire. (Hmmmm, clearly the "handy and mechanical" trait was not inherited via the maternal line.) I dig around in my luggage and find some tweezers. Sadly, I didn't realize that I was playing Operation, moving vehicle version, and made contact with the metal side. Every light went out on the dashboard. To my mum's credit, she screamed, "what did you do!?!?!?" without the least bit of swerving. That's when I learned about fuses in cars.
For the past three years, I used binder clips to keep my roller blinds in the open position. Oh sure, when the first plastic roller thingie broke, I called customer service and asked what could be done. For 5 year old roller blinds? Nothing. "Although the newest version is now available for $120 each." So, I brought home binder clips from work and dealt with it. Until one night, I thought, maybe I can fix it. So, I disassembled the plastic roller thingie and found a manufacturer's name and found replacement parts on the internet. For less than $30 (including shipping!), I had brand new plasticware. Thirty minutes later, my roller blinds were rolling up and down with precision. Relatives and friends alike were amazed. "You fixed them yourself?" "So, you put the replacement parts together yourself?" To their credit, nobody said, "What took you so long?"
So I try to remember the roller blinds when something breaks. Maybe I don't have to live with it for three years. Maybe the solution is inexpensive and manageable. This new theory has led me to install a new deadbolt on my backdoor (less than $30, 1 hour), to assemble an elliptical exercise machine (I had help and it took a long time, but no assembly fee!), and last night, to unclog a sink.
I had felt the need for a real Sunday dinner -- or as close as I could get with what was in the fridge and expiring. We had turkey roast (Quorn, not real turkey), cauliflower with cheese sauce (white sauce with cheddar of course), fresh green beans steamed, and tomatoes from the farmer's market. It was tasty and in the postprandial haze, I washed a lot of green bean tips and cauliflower stems down the disposal. The disposal was having no part of it. Within seconds a greenish liquid started to churn busily in the drain. Sigh. Push the little button on the bottom of the disposal and try again. Ooohh! Now the greenish liquid has white foam. That can't be good. Call the plumber. No. I'm handy, I can do this. So I go upstairs and get the plunger. Works on toilets, must be the same principle. So I wrestle mightily with the plunger and finally with a last tug, there is a release of pressure and the drain begins to empty. Success!
I run some water and lean over the sink in pride as I turn on the disposal to clear up any remaining chunks. And then, I'm shot with green liquid square in the side of the face from the other side of the double sink. How the heck did that happen? I think, as I remove small bits of cauliflower from my hair.
In my first apartment when confronted by water pouring out of the back of my toilet tank and flooding the bathroom and hallway, I sensibly made a call -- to my boyfriend who was 1,000 miles away. That's when I learned how to turn off the water.
Years later, while driving back from Florida in my mother's boyfriend's car, I dropped a gum wrapper into the cigarette lighter receptacle. My mother insisted I get it out immediately before it caught on fire. (Hmmmm, clearly the "handy and mechanical" trait was not inherited via the maternal line.) I dig around in my luggage and find some tweezers. Sadly, I didn't realize that I was playing Operation, moving vehicle version, and made contact with the metal side. Every light went out on the dashboard. To my mum's credit, she screamed, "what did you do!?!?!?" without the least bit of swerving. That's when I learned about fuses in cars.
For the past three years, I used binder clips to keep my roller blinds in the open position. Oh sure, when the first plastic roller thingie broke, I called customer service and asked what could be done. For 5 year old roller blinds? Nothing. "Although the newest version is now available for $120 each." So, I brought home binder clips from work and dealt with it. Until one night, I thought, maybe I can fix it. So, I disassembled the plastic roller thingie and found a manufacturer's name and found replacement parts on the internet. For less than $30 (including shipping!), I had brand new plasticware. Thirty minutes later, my roller blinds were rolling up and down with precision. Relatives and friends alike were amazed. "You fixed them yourself?" "So, you put the replacement parts together yourself?" To their credit, nobody said, "What took you so long?"
So I try to remember the roller blinds when something breaks. Maybe I don't have to live with it for three years. Maybe the solution is inexpensive and manageable. This new theory has led me to install a new deadbolt on my backdoor (less than $30, 1 hour), to assemble an elliptical exercise machine (I had help and it took a long time, but no assembly fee!), and last night, to unclog a sink.
I had felt the need for a real Sunday dinner -- or as close as I could get with what was in the fridge and expiring. We had turkey roast (Quorn, not real turkey), cauliflower with cheese sauce (white sauce with cheddar of course), fresh green beans steamed, and tomatoes from the farmer's market. It was tasty and in the postprandial haze, I washed a lot of green bean tips and cauliflower stems down the disposal. The disposal was having no part of it. Within seconds a greenish liquid started to churn busily in the drain. Sigh. Push the little button on the bottom of the disposal and try again. Ooohh! Now the greenish liquid has white foam. That can't be good. Call the plumber. No. I'm handy, I can do this. So I go upstairs and get the plunger. Works on toilets, must be the same principle. So I wrestle mightily with the plunger and finally with a last tug, there is a release of pressure and the drain begins to empty. Success!
I run some water and lean over the sink in pride as I turn on the disposal to clear up any remaining chunks. And then, I'm shot with green liquid square in the side of the face from the other side of the double sink. How the heck did that happen? I think, as I remove small bits of cauliflower from my hair.
How did I get to be so damn handy?
Tell your your single (plumber) friends.
XO, JamieSmitten
1 comment:
I have a book for you:
http://www.amazon.com/Dare-Repair-Do-Herself-Anything/dp/0060959843/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/002-1933345-6165624?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1190744090&sr=8-1
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