The Reluctant Handyman
Somewhere in the middle of last week, a curious thing happened to me. I found myself in the mood to do something useful about the place. Normally a week on leave means a holiday somewhere else, and nothing ever gets done as the house gradually falls down over a period of years, but like the rest of you I haven't been very far from home in over a year now. So at the moment a week of leave means a period of inactivity at home, perhaps with the odd photography related jaunt in my plans. But the weather has been too good for photography during this particular break from the hamster wheel. No clouds, no wind, no rain. Perfect for lounging about in a garden chair, but rubbish for grabbing a moment of drama from an insolent sky.
At times like this, which have really only been over the Christmas break during the last twenty years, I've found myself deciding to "try something" towards the end of the period of rest. One year I decided I'd try my hand at making falafel, but the only thing I achieved was to part with more money than necessary and leave the kitchen looking like a bombsite the day before returning to work. The falafel was more of a chickpea soup. I promised Ali I wouldn't try again.
Many years ago a colleague told me that whenever he felt like doing a spot of DIY, he'd lie in a darkened room until the sensation had passed over. It's always been the same with me too. In fact I've always called the art of home maintenance "D-I-Won't." From a distance I've always been slightly awed by those men who spend their entire weekends in a set of overalls tinkering away at whatever needs doing. The sort of men who can take the briefest glance at a problem with your plumbing and say something like "oh yes you'll need a flange sprocket for that. Hang on a moment - I've got one in the shed." Then they'll race off in the direction of their toolkit in a fit of excitement as I stand by, watching like an innocent child and wondering whatever on Earth a flange sprocket is or does. Of course if I were to hand them my camera the chances are they wouldn't know what to do with that either, but then I often wonder whether I do myself - and more to the point, the skills they've acquired during their leisure time are actually useful. I might occasionally make a pretty picture for Ali to look at, but the shed roof still leaks in the rain doesn't it?
So during this week of leave, I corrected the error of my ways and earned some brownie points. On the drive we now have two cars with mirror like bodywork that we can still see our faces in three days after I cleaned them. Because Tesco had run out of wash and wax, I ended up buying an expensive alternative online that produced rather pleasing results. During this period I learned that I wasn't washing the cars. No, I was in fact "detailing" them. I've no idea what the difference is, but even Ali's 86 year old father remarked upon how clean her 10 year old Hyundai was looking on Thursday. I have solemnly agreed that henceforth I will continue to "detail" the cars. One day I might learn the distinction too.
For my second act of usefulness I produced an unexpected piece de resistance, obtaining and arranging the necessary materials in such a way that the roof of the woodshed won't leak next time it rains. So shocked am I that I actually did this, I have to keep peering out of the living room window to check that the new roof really does exist. At one point a rogue branch decided to spring forward from its place and try and cause some damage, but luckily it was stopped in its tracks by my bottom lip. It's probably a good job you weren't present to hear my choice of vocabulary at that point. Ok, we're admittedly talking Basil Fawlty's "O'Reilly" levels of workmanship here, so if you were wondering whether to get in touch and book my services I'd urge you to reconsider. But it does seem that we will have dry wood for the fireplace next winter.
I was going to cash those brownie points in today but the sky has gone from one extreme to the other and completely clouded over, so I'm going to watch the FA Cup semi final instead. Maybe I'll try again tomorrow. Apart from Monday's outing (and thank you for helping to propel the image from that adventure onto the Explore page), there has been no photography of note this week. Last night's outing confirmed that it's still too early for bluebells as well, so I've returned to that wonderfully icy and windy evening a couple of weeks ago at Easter when the beach was empty and the sands untouched by humans at low tide. The colours brought the perfect opportunity to try the ten stop in the blue hour. It was one of those evenings when I knew it had been a good session and I was happy with the results. A little bit like this week's out of character foray into useful pursuits.
Enjoy the rest of the weekend everyone.
The Reluctant Handyman
Somewhere in the middle of last week, a curious thing happened to me. I found myself in the mood to do something useful about the place. Normally a week on leave means a holiday somewhere else, and nothing ever gets done as the house gradually falls down over a period of years, but like the rest of you I haven't been very far from home in over a year now. So at the moment a week of leave means a period of inactivity at home, perhaps with the odd photography related jaunt in my plans. But the weather has been too good for photography during this particular break from the hamster wheel. No clouds, no wind, no rain. Perfect for lounging about in a garden chair, but rubbish for grabbing a moment of drama from an insolent sky.
At times like this, which have really only been over the Christmas break during the last twenty years, I've found myself deciding to "try something" towards the end of the period of rest. One year I decided I'd try my hand at making falafel, but the only thing I achieved was to part with more money than necessary and leave the kitchen looking like a bombsite the day before returning to work. The falafel was more of a chickpea soup. I promised Ali I wouldn't try again.
Many years ago a colleague told me that whenever he felt like doing a spot of DIY, he'd lie in a darkened room until the sensation had passed over. It's always been the same with me too. In fact I've always called the art of home maintenance "D-I-Won't." From a distance I've always been slightly awed by those men who spend their entire weekends in a set of overalls tinkering away at whatever needs doing. The sort of men who can take the briefest glance at a problem with your plumbing and say something like "oh yes you'll need a flange sprocket for that. Hang on a moment - I've got one in the shed." Then they'll race off in the direction of their toolkit in a fit of excitement as I stand by, watching like an innocent child and wondering whatever on Earth a flange sprocket is or does. Of course if I were to hand them my camera the chances are they wouldn't know what to do with that either, but then I often wonder whether I do myself - and more to the point, the skills they've acquired during their leisure time are actually useful. I might occasionally make a pretty picture for Ali to look at, but the shed roof still leaks in the rain doesn't it?
So during this week of leave, I corrected the error of my ways and earned some brownie points. On the drive we now have two cars with mirror like bodywork that we can still see our faces in three days after I cleaned them. Because Tesco had run out of wash and wax, I ended up buying an expensive alternative online that produced rather pleasing results. During this period I learned that I wasn't washing the cars. No, I was in fact "detailing" them. I've no idea what the difference is, but even Ali's 86 year old father remarked upon how clean her 10 year old Hyundai was looking on Thursday. I have solemnly agreed that henceforth I will continue to "detail" the cars. One day I might learn the distinction too.
For my second act of usefulness I produced an unexpected piece de resistance, obtaining and arranging the necessary materials in such a way that the roof of the woodshed won't leak next time it rains. So shocked am I that I actually did this, I have to keep peering out of the living room window to check that the new roof really does exist. At one point a rogue branch decided to spring forward from its place and try and cause some damage, but luckily it was stopped in its tracks by my bottom lip. It's probably a good job you weren't present to hear my choice of vocabulary at that point. Ok, we're admittedly talking Basil Fawlty's "O'Reilly" levels of workmanship here, so if you were wondering whether to get in touch and book my services I'd urge you to reconsider. But it does seem that we will have dry wood for the fireplace next winter.
I was going to cash those brownie points in today but the sky has gone from one extreme to the other and completely clouded over, so I'm going to watch the FA Cup semi final instead. Maybe I'll try again tomorrow. Apart from Monday's outing (and thank you for helping to propel the image from that adventure onto the Explore page), there has been no photography of note this week. Last night's outing confirmed that it's still too early for bluebells as well, so I've returned to that wonderfully icy and windy evening a couple of weeks ago at Easter when the beach was empty and the sands untouched by humans at low tide. The colours brought the perfect opportunity to try the ten stop in the blue hour. It was one of those evenings when I knew it had been a good session and I was happy with the results. A little bit like this week's out of character foray into useful pursuits.
Enjoy the rest of the weekend everyone.