Tools

I love tools.  If given a choice between a hardware store and a dress shop, I choose the hardware store every time.  I'm a sucker for drill bit sets and love the new cordless power tools.  Someday I'm going to own my own nail gun.

This love of tools came early.  My dad could fix and build just about anything around the house. In fact, he built our first TV while he was in college.  He  also excelled at drafting my brothers and me as his helpers. ( I understand grunts because of this.)  He believed that if something broke, a person should at least try to fix it before calling a repairman.

This philosophy stood me in good stead when I became a single parent and responsible for the upkeep of our home.  I followed his advice and that of a Reader's Digest book on home repair and tackled almost every job in the house. I can fix and install garbage disposals, snake out any type of drain, repair the innards of a toilet, take apart a dryer and put it back together, hang doors, repair sheetrock, tape and bed sheetrock, paint, hang wallpaper, lay tile, and handle minor car maintenance. Once I took the spring off of a garage door before I realized that it could be a little dangerous.  I can work on electrical appliances but I've never worked on outlets, even with the current off.  I will at least try almost any job.  My younger daughter owns a house and I'm thinking I might pour concrete this summer for a small patio.  My dad was an ace at concrete.

All three of my children can handle tools.  My older daughter is the least interested and probably has the least need. My son is quite capable but he probably has the least time to spend on home repairs and/or improvements.  My younger daughter, on the other hand, proudly follows her
grandfather's example.  She recently bought a new washer, hauled it home and installed it herself.  She then took the knobs off her old washer and transferred them to her dryer before kicking the old washer to the curb. 

Not too long ago she snaked out a toy comb from the toilet in her daughter's bathroom. And she learned the trick of using a potato to twist out part of a broken light bulb from the socket.  In college, she was her group's auto expert because she could install a new battery at the drop of a hat.  She even wore her safety vest. 

And now a third fourth generation seems to share this same love.  My three-and-a-half year old granddaughter plays with her wooden toy set for hours when she is at my house.  I have a lightweight hammer that she can use when we do "real" work.  She can use a screwdriver correctly but I have to watch her because she likes to use it on all sorts of things.  She wields a wicked pair of clippers when we work outside.

She concentrates on her work with her tongue between her teeth.  Again just following the family tradition.