Handy(wo)man.
March 9th, 2003
My husband is not handy. I can say that with utter conviction. My father-in-law, a former plumber and current building inspector is assuredly handy. My brother-in-law, a journeyman plumber, is handy. Even my mother-in-law is a dab hand with a paint brush. Somewhere, those handy genes seem to have disappeared and were not transmitted to my darling spouse.
It all began when Chris went to install a towel bar in the upstairs bathroom. The bathroom is approaching a decorated state. From its bland boring condition when we moved in, it is now transformed. The walls are no longer a bland dingy cream, but shimmer in a deep cobalt blue. The blue sets off the (ugly) oak vanity nicely, ties in with the fake blue marble tiles, and even camouflages the ugly pink and blue mottled countertop (the people who owned the house prior to us seemed to be fixated on baby blue and pink. Everywhere.)
Enter my mother. During a visit up to our house, she somehow managed to break the existing towel bar, an ugly porcelain monstrocity with ribbed rigid plastic tubing. She was so upset she called me at work to tell me she had broken it. I am sure she wasn't expecting me to say "Kickass! now we have an excuse to get a new towel bar!". We had originally left it alone, because we had thought that the porcelain mounts were actually plastered into the wall. Chris ripped them off, and was going to go out and find a new towel bar that would fit exactly over the holes he made from ripping the old one off. Sigh.
I managed to convince him to plaster over the holes and re-paint. Today, he decided he was going to put up the new towel bar. I kept out of it, because he really wants to be handy, and I didn't want to cramp his style. His patch job was decent, and the paint job was good too. As I sat in my chair and read, Chris set to work. There was banging. There was grunting. There was swearing. There was much running up and down the stairs for a hacksaw(?), the drill, screwdrivers, and other tools. The swearing got louder, but I firmly resisted sticking my nose in. Stuff started being thrown around. I took a deep breath and decided to take my chances.
I walked in to the bathroom and saw 8 holes in the wall, drywall compound on the ceiling and on the tub surround. Broken anchors littered the counter. Chris was furious, wet, bleeding (he had sawed his thumb with the hacksaw -- the dullest hacksaw in existence, which, in a former life we used to cut down fencing blades. I don't know what he was even trying to do with the hacksaw and I didn't ask.) and covered in drywall compound. Apparently, he tried to put the new towel bar in the same place as the old one, and the drywall was weaker in the one spot, so the anchors would either disappear into the wall or go in awry. The screws that came with the mounting hardware were soft and stripped immediately. He was very very frustrated and defeated. It galled him, but he asked me to take over. He was a little incredulous, when, 5 minutes later I had the towel bar mounted and the handtowel bar mounted soon after.
He just gets a little hasty. He gets impatient, and he's kind of uncoordinated, and then he gets mad. I am really glad I wasn't around when he did most of the drywalling, taping and mudding in the front room. The reports over the phone were exhausting enough. Anyhow, he has many other skills which make up for his lack of handiness, so I shan't complain. I kind of like being the handywoman around here.
On the Plate:
Linguine with Peppers, Capers and Sardines
This is a recipe slightly modified from Delia Smith's How to Cook series. I love those cookbooks.
In a pan, I took 1 tsp of oil from a tin of sardines and sauteed some garlic, and chopped red peppers. To this I added a tin of tomatoes, which I crushed by hand, a generous spoonful of capers, some basil, some diced marinated artichoke hearts, and the tin of sardines. I used skinless boneless ones, but I am sure normal ones would be just fine. This I simmered gently while I cooked some linguine. It was very good, it freezes well.
Chris didn't eat it, but he said it smelled ok. He's not a big fish fan.
I decided to emulate my friend Hollie's exercise journal. Mine is called Approaching Kilter. It will probably be only interesting to me, but you are welcome to read.
Books I have Read Lately:
- March Upcountry and March to the Sea, by David Weber and John Ringo. I lately have been re-interested in SF, after experiencing a long diet of almost exclusive fantasy. These two I picked up on a whim, but I really love them. These follow the classic military SF mold. Roger MacClintock is in line for the throne of the Empire of Man. He's spoiled and willful, and his mother, the Empress, sends him on a pointless diplomatic mission with a troop of Marines as his bodyguard. They crash land on a swamp/jungle planet and then must fight their way back, through monsters and extreme conditions. Will Roger gain the respect of his bodyguard? Will they make it back?
I really enjoyed these. There is a lot of action, humour, and interesting use of familiar conventions. You really get to know the characters, and there is interesting discussion of feminism, cultural imperialism, ethnocentrism and the like. Heavy attrition is present too, so it isn't a fairytale land where everyone makes it home. I got the first two in paperback. The third book is in hardcover. I was very tempted to by it and continue on with the story! ().(All links go through Amazon.ca because of the affiliate program with The Usual Suspects. I spend so much time on there, that this is the least I can do.)