I believe in being as self-sufficient as possible.
Don’t get me wrong, I like having the right guy help me around the house. What’s more, the right guy can tease me a little about mistakes in my efforts at home improvement, as long as he doesn’t make me feel like a fool. There’s a difference.
Once upon a time I dated the wrong guy
for way too long. Despite oodles of proof to the contrary, he believed I was utterly incompetent when it came to things like changing a tire or replacing hardware on kitchen cupboards, and felt quite comfortable saying so. Frankly, I think he would have preferred someone who didn’t know a hammer from a nail, but that’s not what he got. With me, anyway.
So no way was I going to ask for his help hanging my curtains. Even though in this case I was clueless about how it was done.
You see, I’d never heard of a level.
So instead I took a ruler, measured a reasonable amount above the window frame on either side and once in between, and marked each spot with a pencil. Then I took a strip of painter’s tape and stretched it across, so I’d have something I could check for a straight line.
Looked good to me. I took out my screwdriver and the screws that came with the curtain rod and went at it.
Now, I only had an old-fashioned manual screwdriver. It took FOREVER to get the task done. FOREVER.
On occasion I cheated and pounded the screw with a hammer just to get the thing moving.
Finally, it was ready. I slid the curtains onto the rod and placed the rod in the brackets.
You guessed it – crooked. I eyeballed how much and set out to adjust.
Still not right.
This went on for I don’t know how long,
until finally I had the whole thing looking perfect. Except, I had so many holes it looked like teeny mice had built a teeny mouse-hole condominium complex. That wouldn’t do.
Well, I did a reasonable job with that. The curtains were hanging straight and looking good. Feeling almost smug, I made the mistake of watching some DIY show on the very subject of Mission Accomplished — and learned about anchors.
Oh Lord have mercy. Now I needed an electric screwdriver. And some sort of reward when this was done, because I was headed for the finish line, and I was going to finish a winner.
Finally, after getting this newly discovered aspect completed efficiently
— I did have an expert explain it to me, after all — it really looked good. Darn good. Good enough that when Mr. Wrong came over, his suspicious and close inspection didn’t reveal the truth. And certainly I didn’t.
Today, I have a plethora of electric screwdrivers, each designed for specific tasks l rarely perform. Perhaps more importantly, I have a level.
Now I just need to learn how to sew the curtains properly. Kidding, just kidding.