After a recent post on a social networking site about what a fabulous cook I am, and how I can do just about anything, it was pointed out by some Friends that I was lacking a little in the humility department. I thought that I should assure you, Intimidated Reader, that there are plenty of things that I cannot do.
I do not think that there are many who still believe that I am a talented stain remover and general washerwoman. After posting Lament of the Laundress, I pretty much burst everyone's bubble on that one. Girl8 has several articles of clothing that she may only get to wear until they are soiled. After that, they will reside in the bottom of the hamper, as I have absolutely no idea how to wash them. Yes, there are washing instructions. Yes, they are in English. There are certain socks that I have managed to keep out of the dryer for their entire lives because I fear for their safety, as well as shrink potential. I live in fear of shrink potential. If you have no idea what I am talking about, you probably have never washed and dried a wonderful-fitting pair of jeans, only to pull them out of the dryer and find that they have inexplicably turned in to an ill-fitting pair of high waters. You have not experienced the indignation of pulling your favorite, thick nubby socks over your heel with two hands because they shrank in the dryer, only to find that they no longer go half-way up your leg. You would consider yourself lucky if they covered your ankle.
When it comes to home improvement, I am often at a loss. Luckily, I work with several talented and all-knowing fellows that field my repair and maintenance questions on a regular basis. I have pestered Jerry countless times about the merits and imperfections of different types of siding, and he has answered many a query regarding "frost free" faucets (try saying that three times fast!). I quizzed Bob about furniture building and repair, and another Jerry has been my source of answers regarding metal roofing and wood splitting. It was Don who brainstormed with me when some outlets in my garage stopped working, and he coached me through changing out the GFI. Although I was successful in not electrocuting myself (my primary goal at that time), the outlets still did not work. It took a few more days of talking it out with Don to understand more about how electricity works, and then I realized that the cat had created a short when she peed on the extension cord, which was simultaneously plugged into the wall AND connected to the shop vac.
The one type of repair I refuse to attempt is plumbing. One small mistake and my house could be flooded. I have seen the results of water damage, and they are not pretty. A few years ago the faucet stopped working outside. I called in a plumber and he needed to do a repair from inside the house, which included cutting a hole in an interior wall. I stayed in the kitchen, not wanting to see the destruction of my den. Girl5 was fascinated and supervised the plumber's every move. At one point he told her to ask me for a slice of bread. I mutely gave it to her to pass on to the plumber, wondering if I should ask if he wanted ham with that. It was soon after that when I heard her warn him, "I don't think you should be doing that in the house!" Later I found out that he had been using a blowtorch on the faucet inside a hole he had cut in the living room wall. The bread was somehow a good agent to prevent a leak. It was returned to me in several handfuls.
I have waxed poetic about my wonderful wood stove, round woodpiles and cute woodshed. I never could have built the woodshed without the help of my brother, and he is also the main logger of our lumberjack family. If it were not for him, we would not have a plentiful supply of firewood every year, and consequently, Olympic fires in our wood stoves, lasting from fall until spring. He has more strength and stamina than Lance Armstrong, and I am confident that he is not using performance enhancing drugs. There is no way that I could bend over those monster trees with that extra large chain saw all day long. My back wants to give up just thinking about it.
I have an amazingly talented family. I have cousins who can sing like canaries, other relatives who can draw anything you like, and still another who arranges flowers for heads of state. One has just written a video game for the iToys, while others are creating websites. I cannot lay claim to any of their abilities. I am in constant awe of their accomplishments, which seem to emphasize my lack thereof.
So, Dear Reader, if you sense that I am getting a little too big for my britches, crooning "Takin' Care of Business" a little too often, because maybe I made dinner on a weeknight, let it go. There are plenty of things that I am unable to do. Now that this has been cleared up, I am going to duck out and split a couple of uranium atoms before lunch.
No comments:
Post a Comment