April 25, 2018 – Do It Yourself – again I am at it.

         This Sunday’s paper had an advertisement that indicated, buy one cubic shelf, get the next half price.  I jumped at it.  I need more simple bookcases in this house in order to take care of the books I brought back from my Mom’s.  She left me her Berlin and surrounding town history books and that need their own special place.

         It rained yesterday heavy and I thought it was the best type of day to go shopping.  Easy finding parking places and easy locating the product and the cashier was very kind in confirming that I was going to be receiving the sales price advertised.  I always check before ringing up now – I never seem know when these sales start or end.

         I must admit, the boxes were heavy to maneuver from the shelf into the cart and then into my car, but I managed.

         I tackled one last evening.  Laid out the parts, counted the screws and followed the instructions.  Many times, I have put together furniture of this kind.  Just me, the hammer, a flat head screwdriver and a Philips head screwdriver was I needed. Usually I get out the power drill and make things easier, but last night I did it all by hand.  It felt more powerful to me that way.

These DIY projects always remind me of a house we bought years ago in this county and the riff I caused in the neighborhood on a few occasions.

         Our house on Trojan Lane had closets with no shelves above the rods. I was aghast that all that space was lost.  I asked my husband to get the proper tools out to cut boards and I measured all the closets and made my plans. I went to the lumber store and bought wood and the shelf brackets and anchor screws.  While my Hubby was at work, I started in on my project in the carport in view of all my new neighbors. [Hey, I was raised with two older brothers, I learned how to pound in nails building a tree fort when I was a kid.  I never considered it a “gender” skill.]

         My neighbors were curious when they drove home that evening as I was out in the car port actively cutting wood  – zing, zing, zing with the power saw.

         Of course, my new friend from across the street trotted over and asked what I was doing and I showed her.  I’d finished one closet and was working on the next one.

         Many of the men in the neighborhood were envious that I would do it myself – way before it was fashionable – this is back in the mid 1980s before the internet and YouTube DIY videos.

         The question that surprised me at the time was, “How’d you know how to do that?”  I was slow to answer not sure if he was asking how I learned how to use the equipment [Hubby showed me the power saw, making me put on eye safety glasses] or was he asking how I knew “How to make a shelf.” 

I had lived in a number of apartments and houses since leaving home, and I used many shelfs and I simply had taken notice of how they were constructed.

         I copied a shelf that could hold substantial weight.  When another one of the neighbor women asked to see what I was doing, I gladly trotted her through the house and showed her.  Her remark was, “None of my closets have shelves above the rod either, I’ll go talk to my husband.”

         A week or so later, rumors ran through the neighborhood and my next door neighbor’s husband came over while I was in the garden and casually mentioned, “You’ve done it now, half the men in the neighborhood have to figure out how to put shelves in their closets.  See what you started.”

         A few months later, I brought home a fresh Christmas tree on a Saturday afternoon. I hauled it out of the truck, and in the carport I took a hand saw and cut the stump fresh right where I wanted it because in the past my husband had trimmed off way too many limbs making it a “high wader” tree.

         Right in the middle of me cutting, my neighbor’s husband came up and said, “You are making us guys look bad.”

         I answered, “If you want it done the right, you do it yourself," adding "Merry Christmas" with a smile.

Then a few years later I was in the middle of painting the living room, actually the whole interior of the house, but I started in the living room.  I came out in the carport for a break with a paint brush in hand and an iced coffee in the other.  My next-door neighbor had just finished mowing his lawn and he was cleaning the mower deck. [He had the prettiest lawn in the neighborhood and he mowed religiously.]

“You painting?” he called.

“Yeah.”

“What you painting?”

“The living room.”

“Really, you paint? This I’ve gotta see.” He walked on over and was about to peer in the door when I invited him in for an up-close inspection.

He looked at is hard and long and rubbed his chin and then had to admit to me. “You really know how to paint, nice job.”  That was one of the nicest compliments I ever received because of who said it to me – one of them good ole boys who didn’t think women could do anything that men traditionally did. I always wondered what rock he had been under as most of the ladies in the neighborhood had excellent wallpapering skills.

You can’t say I didn’t keep things lively down on Trojan Lane when we lived there.  When I started one DIY job, often many neighbor’s husband’s had to follow suit or be nagged to death by their wives.

If you are a DIY lady – more power to you!