Finding the Best Handyman is Essential

Okay ladies, I am going to vent a bit. I have a wonderful husband. He is by far, the best pick of the litter and I scored big time when I won him. He's a super loving Father and great provider.  BUT....

He can't hang a flipping picture to save his life.

Now, let me preface this with a bit of background. I'm a southern girl- and like most true southern chicks, we grow up learning a few essentials. Like how to drive a stick, how to bait a hook and how to watch a football game. We may not all know how to change a tire; but we know how find a man who does. My man knows how too- but it involved a ride to the local Tire Store if you get my drift.

When a gal wants a curtain rod hung or a mirror placed on the wall, it shouldn't take an act of God to do it. Mine pulls out the level, the drill, the wall anchor, the stud-finder, the friggin screw and then ....yeah- he hangs it too high.  (I'm five foot tall and he hung the mirror so high that I can't even see the top of my scalp in it- and the poor kids don't have a chance.) I told him he'd need to lower it and he said, fine, but that it was hung high to cover the 3 holes he'd initially tried to hang it from.

Obviously I've got plenty of spack in this house because I've constantly heard the story line, "the stupid anchor broke." It's never operator error! No of course not- it's always dysfunctional equipment we're working with.

 (Look at the first picture and you'll see how high he hung the mirror- BTW- I  made that with some rope from Home Depot, wine-corks, and driftwood I'd picked up with shells on the beach.) This is the after picture. The next one shows the ugly tile and space before I worked on it.

Takes me back to the time he had to put together a Barbie Dreamhouse. The instructions were wrong, the parts were missing, the pieces didn't fit...blah blah blah. He left for an hour because he was so frustrated so I put it together. Nothing was broke or missing, but his spatial capacity to figure it out. I guess if I wanted an engineer I should have married one- but no, alas, I chose a GOLFER.

I've begun to wonder if there are other Golfer-widows out there with the same problem. Maybe it's a golf dysfunction disorder. We could label it GDD, and if they have it- they can not be handy-man material. They could come with a warning so we know what we're getting before we buy the package.

When I met my husband, he came with two things in his possession - a recliner and golf bag.

I had tools. Lots of them. I love my circular saw, my drill, my screwdrivers and sanders. I have a wicked sick relationship with my reciprocating saw as demo work is therapeutic to me. My husband doesn't understand my need to fix things up and make them into other things. I love finding trash and turning it into usable things. I've even written a book on it teaching others how to do it.

 He doesn't understand why when he leaves in the morning from a bathroom that was ugly but functioning, he returns home to find the bath/shower taken down to the studs and I'm covered in dirty installation. (See pictures for proof.) Just an FYI- it takes only about 30 minutes for one small woman and a power tool to remove an enclosed glass shower.

I had to twist his arm to buy a "fixer-Upper" under the pretense that I would do all the work and pay someone else for what I couldn't do myself.  So far, I ( he'll say we) have painted every room in the 2600 sq.ft house. I've also painted some of the outside. I took out and replaced the front door with a hurricane impact door. I've hung interior shutter doors that I fabricated to frame in a dining room wall for privacy. I've taken down every light fixture and ceiling fan in this 80's style house and replaced with new fans and lights. I've patched holes, sanded walls and even put in a new sink vanity in the laundry bath. I laid laminate floor in my office, removed every bit of carpet in this house, and begun sanding and painting the staircase. I've stripped wallpaper, removed tile from the walls and then put up new wallpaper that looks like rustic wood paneling. I've installed beadboard and chair-rails as well as baseboards. I've removed the dock lift beams with the help of my brother and a friend and those have now been built by a welder.  I do not weld!We must admit our limitations!

Now I'm on the master bath. I (with the help of a friend) took down a huge 9 foot mirror and got it down the stairs and to the trash. I removed the enclosed ugly silver-chromed glass shower enclosure, and the tile  from the wall. I took it to the studs. He was not amused!

But I knew that wall had mold behind it and I had to remove the installation and drywall because they had not used the right kind.

Here's a funny true story- I went and bought the drywall  with the gypsum coating b/c that's the kind you need for high-moisture areas to prevent mold. So it is up in my bath, leaning against the wall till I can hang it and my husband says-"Oh so that's the color you've decided on...we're going with green?"

I kid you not- the only greens he recognizes are those with a little white ball on it. But I love him.

So that brings me to the topic- at some point, you really do need a handyman. I was finding it difficult to maneuver the drywall by myself. Trying to handle it and cut and measure it, I ended up breaking it. So I broke down and called a local guy who offered handyman services.

It's been life-changing my friends.  In 40 minutes, it was hung. (The drywall that is.) After he left, I taped the seams with drywall tape and  mudded it and now its dry and ready for sanding. I may even try my luck with some fancy tile.  And I'm not scared....well maybe a little.

So now I know I can call this guy for the projects that I don't want to ask my husband to do. Next up will be hanging barn doors with the hardware.

 I think I've found the answer to a peaceful marriage.

Hmmm...I wonder if my handyman can put together Barbie townhouses.Christmas Eves around my house are always a nightmare.

 I paid a guy one Christmas to put together a 15 foot trampoline. No kidding, I was scared if my husband did it, the kids would jump up but not come down. It was the best money I ever spent.

 I'll post more pictures as my projects get completed. In the meantime, remember- every man is not handy- but if you're handy- you can find a man. Ha Ha. I just made that up. I'm killing it today!. Gotta get back to the tile.

-Tammy

Till next time.