Last weekend
was spent in full DIY mode. Having moved into the new house in August I’ve
gradually been buying mirrors and furniture to suit the new surroundings and
fit the space. This weekend, I built some shelves for the lounge. By ‘built’ I
mean I assembled an Ikea flat pack kit but I’m still taking that as a
construction victory.
I am a
complete girly female when it comes to DIY for a number of reasons:
1. I read the instructions.
2. I set out all the components and count them before starting.
3. I assume all said components are essential rather than optional, and I
therefore use them all when told rather than skipping a few to save time.
4. I use the
tools I have rather than going out to buy the latest exciting gizmo which will
shortly be relegated to the back of the garage never to be handled again.
5. I only use a hammer when specifically instructed to.
6. I believe the bubble in the spirit level.
I know this may sound sexist but I believe these to be the actions of
more females than males. Only this morning I had a phone call from my soon to
be ex-husband who left me almost 2 years ago (see my first post Single Plus Baggage) to ask where he should put the rinse
aid in his new dishwasher! I gave basic generic advice then gently suggested he
read the instructions. It was bizarre on so many levels!
Anyway, since moving into my new abode I have assembled a temporary
hanging rail, a dining table and 6 six chairs, a chaise longue style chair, an
egg chair, 3 coffee tables, 2 garden storage cupboards and now a shelf unit too.
I have an electric screwdriver and I’m not afraid to use it!
The hanging
rail was particularly difficult as it was an old one so the instructions were
lost long ago, some bits were broken and other elements were missing… I think!
It took me hours.
So, back to the bookshelf. I was alone in the lounge with the flat pack
pieces, instructions, my tools and a cup of coffee. I had already organized the
screws, brackets and wooden dowels into piles and was ready to go. It wasn’t
long before I was fighting back the tears!
It’s not that my ex would have done this sort of thing before, as he
wasn’t really into DIY. And it’s not that I was feeling cross at having to
build a new world one flat pack at a time. I was angry because the task was
physically tough.
I’ve had tennis elbow since Christmas Eve and the pain was searing
through my elbow, down my forearm and into my fingers. I was trying to hold 2
large pieces of wood at a 90-degree angle and push one into the other with wooden
dowels. I tried every permutation of standing, sitting, kneeling and bending
with every possible option of shelf unit upright, on its side, on its back,
upside down… it was hopeless. And even if I did manage to get myself and the
components in exactly the right position, I then couldn’t reach the hammer
without something wiggling out of place. And it hurt my arm, a lot.
It really would have been helpful to have another pair of hands, except
there isn’t another pair of hands in my life anymore. Those hands now reside elsewhere. The kids are
getting a bit older and could help but if they’re out with their Dad then I’m absolutely
on my own.
I was on the verge of tears when I managed to pull myself back from the
DIY abyss. I remembered that an extra pair of adult hands comes attached to
arms that are joined to the shoulders of another human being. If that other
human being, say a spouse, has an opinion, critical voice and an unwanted short
cut likely to end in disaster then that’s not really a pair of hands you want
helping.
I suddenly realized that doing this alone was actually easier in many
ways than working with someone else. There was no voice interrupting my
thoughts as I read the instructions, no one standing watching me and no one
making “helpful” suggestions.
I persevered with my one armed task. The dog was perplexed. She didn’t
offer to help.
Finally, I did it. Granted the last screw only went into place when I
had to lie on to top of the unit to force the panel down and align the holes
but it worked and, for once, my weight was an asset! The feeling of
satisfaction was fantastic. And obviously made me cry some more!
By evening, the lounge corner had been tidied up with the debris
previously spilling out of it neatly filed on the new shelves. The room was
once again in order. I was relaxed and ready to sit on my sofa, enjoying my
newly finished space. Then the dog was sick on the carpet. Keeping my cool, I
cleaned it up and settled back down with a serene smile on my face. Then my
son, swinging around a toy in a fashion we have all told our children to stop
in order to avoid disaster, knocked my full glass of Becks Blue off the coffee
table onto the floor. I gave up on my quiet night at that point.
The next day, inspired by my success, I was tempted to pull out the
bathroom cabinet flat pack, lounge mirror and hallway pictures and get stuck
in. However, it’s important to know your limits.
Firstly, when your arm feels like it’s being stabbed with a burning hot
skewer, it’s time to take some painkillers and rest. Also, any furniture item
with doors that need adjusting so they don’t end up wonky is not for the novice
DIYer. And hanging a mirror that you can’t even lift single handedly is never
going to end well. So I’ve booked a lovely handyman for next week to come and
finish off!
In summary, I would say 3 things:
1. Build what you can. Keep going. You can do more than you first think.
2. Get help when you need it. Be realistic. It’s not a sign of failure
or defeat.
3. Invest in, or make friends with someone who own a carpet cleaning
vacuum device.
Happy DIYing everyone!
Love
SPB
xxx
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