Window Shades

I really looked forward to all those little home handyman chores that come with owning a house.  They are, each of them life, affirming in their own way.  But I find as I do the simple tasks that homeowners have enjoyed, or not, for years, that there are a few things missing.

For one thing, self-respect.  In my antiquity I’m finding that simple things like getting on top of the counter involve more than just a hop.  A stepladder.  Seriously, I used a stepladder to get on my counter.  I would have thought myself clever, as I had all the tools and fastenings lined up and within reach.  Except now that I’m up here I can’t help but notice how greasy the top of the microwave is.  Now that I know I can’t simply work around all that grease as if it wasn’t there.  So, OK, climb down, soapy water, clean and beautiful.

Next I need to mark and place the brackets.  The very thorough directions in two languages fail to tell me why two screws are bigger than the other two.  The blistering heat which actually inspired me to hang these sun shading wonders in the first place requires that at least one window be left open.  I was lucky, so very lucky, that the first time I dropped the screw, when it bounced on the counter, that it stopped itself a mere inch from jumping outside to be forever lost in the pucker brush two stories down.  The directions with the list of necessary tools might have included a pair of needle nose pliers to hold the screw in this tiny corner at this ridiculous angle.  Are all home handymen ambidextrous?  I happen to be, to my great good fortune.  But I am not a contortionist, and squeezing into the right place to position these brackets is not doing my aging back any favors.

What every home worker needs is a young apprentice.  No more than three feet tall.  Long arms with two elbows each, reedy fingers at least eight inches long, with the middle finger the same length as the first and ring finger.  Cheerful of demeanor, willing to run and fetch and hold.  Tireless in the face of getting the measurements right and the brackets lined up.  Observant of mistakes, tactful at drawing attention to them.  Oh, if only.

As you have certainly noticed by now, I am kind of new to all of this.  Yet with all the above hyperbole and nonsense running through my head I managed to mount two shades in my kitchen.  They’re probably not perfect, but they will block the eastern sun.  They seem to make the kitchen cooler, because everything seemed cooler when I climbed off that counter with the sweat dripping in rivers down my forehead.  Still, for all their lack of perfection, these shades are mine.  I did this.  This is experiential education, a new skill learned by doing.  It feels really, really good.