I can identify with this. . .

The Meatriarchy has an interesting post up about a whole bunch of things, but it eventually wends its way to handyman work:

I don't seem to have inherited that skill [carpentry]. This probably led to some of the friction between my father and myself. He couldn't understand why I was unable to drive a nail straight and I couldn't understand why he thought I was such a feeb. I wanted to understand it all but it just didn't happen intuitively. And I learned later on in life that some people aren't good teachers.

I had a similar experience. My grandfather was a man of many skills, and his woodworking skills were impressive. He built all sorts of built-in features for his house, including some very intricate fold-down and pull-out and hide-away tables, drawers, shelves, and so on. It was a typically tiny English "two up and two down", but he seemed to have used every nook and cranny to create storage spaces and work surfaces with nothing more than hand tools and scrap lumber. It broke my heart when we had to sell the house after my grandparents died: all the intricate woodwork was bound to be torn out and replaced with modern tat.

Anyway, as I've occasionally mentioned, I have remarkably little aptitude for most forms of handiwork — especially home repair. I'm forcing myself to learn a bit about woodworking in particular (I've managed to build a bookcase and an entertainment unit, plus various shop furniture for my so-called workshop). It's tough, because it really doesn't come easily and I hate wasting both material and effort to get bad results.

So fast-forward to the present day. I bought my first house in 1997. I tried to do some things like put some spray insulation in the cracks in the windows but it all foamed up and made a hideous ugly yellow mess. I struggled with putting screws into drywall because I didn't understand that you have to find a stud and then drive the screw into that. Did you know that studs are placed 16" apart? Well if you know where one stud is you can always find all the others.

We could probably match story for story like this. If it hadn't been for my old friend Clive, I would have given up on doing anything around the house years ago.

Thanks, Clive!

So my father-in-law shows up to do some renovation work on the first house and I thought I would help him. I learned something very important (I think we were putting down ceramic tiles) on that project and I will pass it on to all who read it (especially those who find carpentry work to be fraught with peril).

No project ever goes smoothly. In fact all projects are fraught with problems. I used to start to do something like . . . put up a new light fixture and then get completely freaked out because it didn't go smoothly. I thought it was because I was an idiot. But it turns out this happens to everyone even the best carpenters.

Well, I wish I'd been able to figure that one out a long time ago — it would have saved me a lot of cursing and swearing at myself when things didn't go anything like what I hoped. F'r example, when I built the entertainment unit, I only made a couple of pretty minor mistakes up until the last steps. Unfortunately, the mistakes there were pretty noticeable (door hardware that didn't properly line up — in fact were offset by a good half-inch from where they should have been). A few years ago, that'd have upset me enough to want to pour gasoline over the whole unit and set fire to it. Now, I live with it (and I will get around to fixing it eventually).

This all helped me realize that I am not a complete idiot when it comes to basic home repair and some carpentry. In fact I have now amassed a collection of tools that I know how to use Like a compound miter saw — man that thing is cool. Or a cordless drill (everyone should have one) In fact I might even get a router after Christmas.

But most important of all I have made a major breakthrough and conquered a phobia.

Dude, be careful . . . tool collecting is a dangerous, seductive habit. Before you know it, you'll be ogling table saws, bandsaws, and jointers! Don't ask me how I know. . .