When Things Go Wrong--as they pretty much usually do!

Have you ever struggled with an ailing appliance without success, finally called a repairman, only to have him diagnose and fix the problem in one minute?

On the one hand, you are impressed--and then you beat yourself up a little for not figuring it out yourself and saving some money. I say, "if only I had had that tool."

Back in the day I had a portable dishwasher that failed to fill. We called a repairman. He quickly found dead ants clogging the screen of the intake hose. A simple fix. Not really worth the expensive service call. I beat myself up a little.

I have learned a little about vacuum cleaners and other small machines. I have fixed clogs and replaced belts and cleaned filters. I know a little about flooding gasoline engines, gas and oil mixing ratios for other yard machines, and know about dirty air filters that can stop a machine with spilled oil or dust. A replacement gas cap that had no air flow baffled me one summer--the engine started easily and then killed in about 3 minutes when the air dissipated--until finally a genius handyman diagnosed the problem. It had been at the (Honda) shop for a tuneup and it probably sounded fine to them for the brief time they tried it. I mowed the lawn for awhile that summer in 5 minute increments! Sometimes I would check the gas level, allowing air in. Then it would work again for a few minutes. Pretty much drove me crazy.

I now know to give the air-conditioner fan a whack the first time we flip the switch to air in the spring. I still clean my own gutters occasionally, but I don't dare to bring that big new blower with me up on the roof. I now have a very sturdy ladder. The previous owner of this house died falling off a ladder!

 I am trying to take care better care of my stuff. I run a cycle now and then with a pretty pricey dishwasher cleaner. Do you do that? I now mix bleach and cascade dish washing powder with pure hot water to clean the jets on the whirlpool tub and then do a rinse cycle. I waste two full tubs of the hottest water--just trying to do the recommended thing.

But nothing is more aggravating then appliances that fail and things that don't work. There is that rule of three, and we have had three machines/appliances fail in a week's time--very discouraging.

If it is a weather related failure, I am a little more tolerant. The electric was out in a winter storm for a few days a decade or so ago and I felt a little pioneer-ish, determined to be plucky and survivalist, sleeping in sweats under a pile of all the blankets I could find in the house. We went out to eat a lot, lingering over the hot food in warm, crowded, restaurants such as Old Country Buffet, that had electricity, along with other survivors who looked pretty grungy and unwashed.

But although I had a cool house this summer, I pretty much lost patience with being plucky, especially while taking care of things and watering in the extreme temperatures outside and in other hot places--including church, where it took six weeks to repair a system failure.

And it seems that for me, simple tasks tend to become complicated--and we do need professional help. "Mike" has saved our butts many times.

I have always believed that, in the end, you pretty much get what you pay for, but we still try to do things ourselves whenever possible. Almost every day I learn something new, and after a lifetime of learning, I still do stupid things and struggle with jobs that seem simple until things start to go wrong.

I have been helping my daughter--delivering the step ladder, handing her the pencil, the borrowed drill, the screw, the level--install drapery hardware and 8 panels in her living room. She searched for months for rods and finally went with simple and inexpensive rods from IKEA, with pricier faux silk panels from West Elm. Trips to two different Targets were required to obtain enough of the necessary clips. She is braver than I am. I would certainly have screwed it up and hung the rods crookedly. But they are up and appear straight. Six of the eight panels still need steaming, and some of the silver screws, drilled into anchors, still need a dab of black paint. The new draperies are hitting the floor with 96 inches of luxe, pretty much pooling properly, but not too much.

Steaming daughter's pretty new drapes

I have recently recovered from a hot week of cleaning and painting in our student rental house. I engaged a few friends to help me, but I was the one that was there pretty much alone all afternoon and into the night for a few days, painting two bedrooms and a closet. On the first day of cleaning, one of my willing helpers fell and broke a bone in her elbow shortly after work--did I work her too hard?

Green room grease & blind

One evening when I was almost finished with the closet in the green bedroom, I called the friend that did not have a broken arm to see if we could still find new blinds that night and get them up.

I was working up on a ladder in the closet, painting the ceiling, desperately trying to finish before I dropped from heat exhaustion or dehydration. The popcorn ceiling had never been painted and absorbed at least a quart of ceiling paint. The inside edges of the closet were still brown metal and required primer. And of course, it all needed two coats of paint.

The greasy spots on the wall from twin mop-haired tenants of a particular northern European ethnicity had bled through a latex primer and the finish coats like something out of a horror movie. I needed a shellac primer to seal off the grease. Now I know.

The room turned out a beautiful sage green, but I don't have an after photo. Below is a scary photo of what it looked like when I started to paint and the grease spots were still visible, as well as the spots from a 100 nail holes and putty marks that I had pre-coated. The room was 50 shades of green as it dried.

Wall of horror

The blue bedroom also turned out well. I taped all the trim and had a new 9x12 drop cloth and a new brush for cutting-in the ceiling that worked really slick. Good equipment helps. Now I know.

But, I thought recoating in the same color that I had used a half dozen years or so ago would be easy. Well, the Benjamin Moore "Denim Comfort" had pretty much faded to purple in a small room with only one window, so I wouldn't have had to use the expensive paint to re-coat. The fresh paint was a totally different color! Now I know. But I still like the color--and I especially like the name.

The pretty "Denim Comfort" blue room

I would like to end this post with this happy new and blue room, but before I finished the green room late that afternoon, the day before the last tenant was coming back for college and needed the space, my friend and I measured for blinds and hoped to find some pretty-cheap white vinyl ones somewhere--they always get destroyed anyway.

So I wrapped my paint tray with a tall kitchen trash bag, washed most of the paint off my hands and hopped in her car. I was desperate for dinner, but we were pressed for time so I said I could pick up a soda or something at the home improvement store. But fortuitously, she was in the wrong lane and heading in the direction of fast food--a Burger King. We whipped into the drive-thru lane and ended up in some kind of nightmarish time warp. After waiting in the line, with no exit strategy, for well over 10 minutes, with only one car waiting at the window ahead of us, I got out of the car (ignoring the advice of  my friend) and started waving my arms wildly at the food window. The window opened with a frazzled woman, making lame excuses for the delay. I was hungry as a bear and dehydrated. Finally, I inhaled a hamburger and sucked down a large diet drink, regaining some measure of sanity. But I now know that I will never visit that Burger King again.

Then--on to three stores--that did not have the sizes or styles we needed. As a last ditch effort, we went to WalMart. There we were cut off by a large angry man of a differing ethnicity as we turned in on the access road. He started yelling at us in the parking lot. My friend responded, which was a huge mistake. He got angrier! Our time in the store was mostly spent avoiding further confrontation with the man, who kept popping up in the aisles we were heading down!

After a terrible night of failure and blaming each other for the bad karma and even yelling at each other in front of a few tenants who were already moved in, I returned to the green room, first-coated the closet walls, mowed the front lawn, second-coated the closet, and finished throwing the paint and drop cloths into the back of my jeep by about 9 PM that Saturday night.

I don't get paid enough for all this aggravation!!

 If I lived in a hut in Africa, like the POTUS's half-brother George, I would likely have less go wrong--fewer appliance break downs, fewer paint color choices--a pretty simple life. (I just had to slip something political in).

Ever longed for simple? It's probably a crock--and I think I'm pretty much stuck with living the life I have.

Next year, I suppose, I could write about when things go right...

 Last week I flooded my mower, with one small patch of grass to finish. I was frustrated and had pulled the cord a few dozen times when...along came a young man, blonde and beautifully built, interrupting his jog to ask if I needed help. Embarrassingly, one swift pull had my mower roaring. Now that was something pretty nice.