ESSENTIAL THINGS

We all have them.

They are all over the house. We have them in the basement, in cluttered drawers, and in the garage.

Throughout the years, I have accumulated an unbelievable assortment of tools. I honestly can open up a fix-it shop, right in my own home, if I wanted to chose this type of occupation.

For some reason when I go shopping, I end up buying another tool or a gadget, thinking that I might find a use for it. I have every kind of tool imaginable lying around in various place in my home.

I remember one day buying a peg board for my tools. I have one in the basement and one in the garage. One afternoon, I spent an entire day organizing all my tools, hanging them on my peg board. Stepping back, I admired my work and thought, "now I can find any tool I need."

I also have a collection of repair books. They too, are scattered all over the house. They are in boxes in the attic, the basement, and among my cookbooks. Imagine that!

An insurmountable resource was literally at my fingertips. "I am woman." "I can do anything," I thought. I often get in this state of mind, when I become challenged, and have to depend on myself to fix something.

Then why do I continually call a handyman?

I suppose, it is more convenient not having to devote three whole days just to fix a dripping faucet? Also, my knees thank me when I place the call. On the other hand, I always beat myself up after writing the $250 check to the nice young man, thinking I could have done this myself. One day my little bulb in my 37 year old oven burnt out. I decided to replace it myself. "How hard can this be?" I thought. All I had to do was remove eight little screws, remove the backing plate, and put in the new bulb.

So I began my task. I struggled for what seemed hours. I had more tools on the floor than God, while I attempted to align the tiny screws into the holes, while at the same time, holding a small flashlight between my teeth!

Sitting on the floor, I contemplated every move with care, feeling grateful that the oven door stayed down and did not slap me in the face. After much effort, finally everything went in place. Now came the test. I closed the oven door, switched on the light, and was amazed the light came on. I must have tested the switch a dozen times, unable to wipe the smile off my face.

John, the handyman called, asking "Is there anything you need done today?" "No," I replied, as I looked again at the light in my oven. "Well, you give me a call if something should come up and you need me."

"If I lose my screwdriver, I'll give you a call," hearing John chuckle on the other end of the phone.