Is it a roar, or a meow?

I'm not going to lie. I get a thrill when I successfully fix something around the house, especially if it's something that seemed daunting to me when I considered trying. Being single has been educational: I've learned to use a propane torch, sweated pipes, fixed a dishwasher and a washer and dryer, wired lights and doorbells, and deconstructed (then reconstructed) a box spring that was too tall for a stairwell. I just purchased my own multimeter and electric receptacle tester; I purchased and own my own circular, jig, chain, miter, and hack saws; and I literally carry the scar of someone who has learned, through trial and huge error, how not to cut her finger off when the protective plate for the electric hedge trimmer is broken.


The cycle of concentration-frustration-elation (wash, rinse, repeat)
as I figure out how to accomplish some household fix-it task is similar to what I used to feel when I did coding or computer hardware troubleshooting. I enter some weird time-tunnel; everything stops until I figure out the problem, and when I come out of the vortex after that "aha!" moment, I realize what felt like an hour was really a day.


In the end, I glean a bit of knowledge that will be with me forever, whether I want it to be or not. Seriously, someday I'll be taking a written driver's license exam and my mind will freeze on "traveler wires" and "ground" when I see the words "red" or "green" and "light." Useless knowledge tends to lodge into the most inconvenient ledges of my brain.


My kids and I play a game at dinnertime. I ask them what they've learned that day. If they say nothing, they'll (almost jokingly) be required to go gain a tidbit of knowledge to share. They'll come back with a new word, some random trivia, or most often, something surprisingly hilarious. It's because of them that I know farts have been clocked at 10 feet per second and that Leonardo Da Vinci is credited with inventing the scissors. My input to this game lately is all about household stuff.


Mom: "Today I learned that the R-value marked on insulation is a measure of thermal resistance!"

Kids: "uh. okay. What's thermal resistance?"

Mom: "The resistance to heat flow."

Kid: "Cool mom. Did you know crocodiles can't stick out their tongues?"


I feel their pain really. Because you know, I really could have gone my entire life without knowing this stuff and still have been perfectly happy. Although I may feel victorious when I 'get it', the truth is that I'd rather someone else do it and leave me to the things I want to know.


I'm taking this opportunity to make a list, just for the hell of it, of things I never particularly wanted to learn. I may be setting the feminist movement back a few decades, but I never said I wanted it all.

(grammar nazis beware: the following list is not parallel)


I never wanted to learn

* to fix anything on the car.
Although female mechanics are cool, I wouldn't mind just sticking to changing oil and the rogue flat tire now and again. Even those, I would have been happy to hire out.

 
* what my dishwasher's guts looked like.


* what my dryer's guts looked like.

* how to bypass the door sensor's wiring on my washing machine.

* how to read a wiring schematic and use a soldering iron.

* how to cut open (and then patch) a ceiling to access the plumbing for an upstairs bathtub.

* how to replace a clogged disgusting u-trap for said bathtub.  Some things are just plain gross.


* to fish a dead possum out of a pool when opening it.  Did I mention that some things are just plain gross?


* how to clear ice from a gutter at 6 am in -2 degree weather

* what exactly is in the crawl space behind the basement.

* how to run a water line to the refrigerator across the room from the sink.

* landscaping.
Really. I don't want to know anything about keeping up my yard. I want it to just magically look beautiful and well kept.


* how my neighbors would react if I chose to let my yard return to its god-given state.
It's not pretty (both their reactions and the yard). I don't recommend trying this one if you like your neighbors.


* how to rip out a preformed shower unit and put in a new one on a minimal budget.
I don't actually know how to do this yet, because I'm still in the 'reading everything ever written about it' stage.

Likewise with:

* how to tear out an upstairs bathtub when it requires going through walls.

* how to beg for help from knowledgeable friends when I get myself in over my head; and hoping they don't feel used for their arm mass.


Although I am woman (hear me roar), it's empowering enough to know I can learn this stuff if I have to. I'm also woman enough to say that if I someday live happily ever after with a man enjoys doing these things, more power to him. And I'm not sexist: if you're a woman looking for room and board in exchange for handy woman work, give me a call!


Until the phone rings, it's back to figuring out what to do with the neutral and how to wire the travelers when converting two 3-way switches (each controlling the same two lights) to one single-pole motion-sensor and one regular single-pole switch.

But...did you know that Sesame Street's Bert and Ernie were named after the policeman (Bert) and the taxi driver (Ernie) in Frank Capra's "Its A Wonderful Life"?


P.S. Measure twice, cut once is a nice truism. Unfortunately, some of us were apparently born without the ability to use a measuring tape accurately. I can measure eight times and if I'm lucky enough to come up with the same measurement twice, what I cut will still be wrong. A better ditty: measure twice and let someone else handle the saw.