It wasn’t long ago that I was getting to grips with the drill in a bid to find some kind of feminist freedom, to prove myself an equal in the land of builder’s bum and bravado.
Since then, September 2009, when I was still calling a ‘rawlplug’ a ‘raw plug’, I have not only proved my equality in our house of hammer horrors, I’ve upped my status to ‘Guv’nor’ and learned how to relax into the bargain, which is exactly what’s happening the world over, according to a report in the Financial Times on April 3rd.
Some head to the potting shed and garden to unwind but increasingly, and not simply due to economic strife, some of us are heading to our toolboxes to take pleasure in the joy crafting our homes.
Many people who are perfectionists at work bring that work ethic home and avoid the ‘amateur’ slur, like the pal I spent the weekend with. My mate admits that his desire to hang pictures and reorganise his new garage verges on uptight, but his sense of satisfaction knows no bounds. He switches off when he’s switching on.
Now, in my earlier blog, I vowed to enrol in a women-only DIY course, well that hasn’t happened but largely due to the fact I have been imbued with just the right amount of confidence to tackle minor jobs around our home.
I’m not stupid enough to think I could re-wire the house, or plumb our new bathroom despite the fact we’ve waited two years to install it: we’ve run out of cash but if I tried to do it myself we’d have to fork out a fortune getting a real plumber to mend my mistakes.
But, for the simpler jobs, there are plenty of websites I can tap into to get the information I need to get started. I checked out Wikihow to find out how to hang wallpaper but I found DIY Doctor more user-friendly and visually appealing
I’m lucky that I watched my mum pasting away over a paper table as a kid. Sadly she didn’t teach me any techniques but the fact papering was as natural as cooking (more so, because she’s a lousy cook!) whilst holding down a full-time job and raising me single-handed, eradicated any notion that such projects weren’t possible. Mum epitomises the ethic of the make-do-and-mend generation; she’s living proof that if you put your mind to it, anything is possible. She cringes at some of the botched jobs she’s seen paid craftsmen do on my different abodes.
In America Faythe Levine is the Martha Stewart of the craft world. She’s penned a book called Handmade Nation and a DVD documentary as a follow-up. She reckons “something big is happening…DIY is not just a term but a way of life”.
Whilst I’m not prepared to sign up to one of the ‘chapters’ set up in honour of the handmade-cum-craft boom at the Church of Craft, which appears to kneel at the alter of La Levine, I am regularly found praying that I’ve correctly measured the wall and the wood before I get drilling. Sadly a lack of worshipping room has put a damper on the only UK chapter in Manchester.
I had a series of interviews recently and was relieved when they were over so I could get my paintbrush out but I do have bugbears on the DIY relaxation front, namely a) with two small boys rampaging about the place getting the drill out is hardly the safest option and b) I get so stressed trying to find the necessary hours to prepare a project that I end up in a tiz and need to sit down with a camomile tea.
But today, as my partner’s mum kept the kids busy with a water pistol I mended the washing machine (only marginally flooding the utility space) and prepared shelves to house shoes. Tomorrow I plan to paint more shelves, add another coat to my ‘blackboard wall’ in the kitchen and fix the errant ball on my son’s Victorian bed… if I can find it. Anyone fancy babysitting?!
