Blind terror at DIY skills
Iwas lucky enough to have some lovely craft and design teachers when I was at school, a subject that’s now widely known as design and technology. At my senior school, we had a large area for woodwork and a separate area for metal work and lathes.
There was also an area for fabric and needlework.
Sadly, most of my peer group knew that if they went into that area, their school life could take a turn for the worse.
Even with this infrastructure and the excellent teaching, I managed to leave school completely and utterly DIY incompetent.
To understand why I’m so poor at DIY I might then turn to my upbringing.
However, while I had unlimited access to a cluttered garage with an abundance of tools largely gained from my grandad, still, no skills emerged.
I can even remember getting a ‘hammer, hacksaw and screwdriver’ set when I was very little and still, no early talent bubbled to the surface.
The issue for me is that I believe it’s more nature than nurture.
I have a good friend who started life as a furniture maker and now makes props and models for Disney films.
It is not an over-exaggeration to say that everything he touches works.
His home has hand-made shelves which are level.
He’s made his children bespoke wardrobes that they designed. He even made me a bed as a wedding gift.
It is grossly unfair and I’m sure that if I was in America I could sue my school, sue my friend for being too brilliant or maybe even sue God for my genetic composition.
Not swayed by this burden, I have on many occasions tried to prove the genes wrong.
In my substantial book of failures, I have fitted several shelves that, in the middle of the night, have flung themselves off the wall to the floor.
I have attempted to nail down floorboards and punctured a heating pipe. I’ve also fitted a new bath that required a wall to come down so we could ‘start again properly.’
You’d think this would put me off, but no chance.
After writing this I’m about to attempt the impossible. I’m going to take on a DIY job that most people would never dare contemplate let alone attempt.
I am going to install an ‘easy fit, cut to size’ roller blind. One of the most challenging DIY items that you can ever take on.
Even when you buy it, as you walk through the store and carry it to the till people stop and watch. Grown men burst into tears. Children are too scared to speak out. Grandparents offer to have the family over for tea so the house is quiet.
The ‘cut to fit’ roller blind is the ultimate challenge. This is because of one impossible step. Can you cut the material of the blind in a straight line?
I’m going to do curtains as well. This is a phase one ‘blackout’ arrangement for a high-maintenance child.
Even when I showed my wife the ‘cut to fit’ roller blind, she visibly winced as if I had trodden on an emotional toe.
I can’t resist knowing whether I just might be able to do ‘something’. To step back and say to myself ‘that went okay, you’re good at this’.
The more plausible reason is that if I don’t do this then I’ll have to pay someone and I can’t do that. The second is, at the moment, my solution is to buy black-out material and then put Velcro around the window.
That’s an easy fix although the room is permanently dark and slowly getting hotter. It’s a bit like a cell.
That may also be a description of my mood in the next 10 minutes. Wish me luck.