Fixing A Hole

 Standing on a ladder in my living room, I paused for a moment to reflect on my role as a homeowner. The moment came and went rather quickly, but it was centered on my wife's insistence that I did not have to climb up on that ladder. Not this past weekend, anyway. I could wait. There would be time. Later. 

But here's the thing: I happen to know that "later" is when everything else will need to be painted, clipped, fixed or removed from the premises. Our current reality had us adding insulation above our ceiling. Because we are nominally do-it-yourself-types, we told the gentlemen who were coming to shove hoses into the space between our attic and our ceiling that we would drill a series of three inch holes in all the rooms in our house to streamline the process. Which we did. And saved a bunch of money. 

And had holes in our ceiling that my wife initially decorated by placing a dozen of our son's stuffed animals from his childhood, peeking down from above. Which lasted about a week until the insulation truck came and that fun ended. Then we were left with holes that dribbled bits of non-toxic dunnage that slowly began to drift down in small tufts. To stem that tide, we placed cut up squares of manila folder in each hole. Until we could find the time to get up on a ladder and replace the divots we had created before. 

Which required drywall repair. Which involved spackling. And sanding. And painting. And because these things can't be done all at the same time, we were dragging plastic sheeting to a room, then fixing a hole or two. Then dragging plastic sheeting to another room. Fixing that hole, and then waiting for the spackle to dry. Or cure. Or whatever spackle does so you can then climb back up on a ladder and sand the excess spackle that will then need to be touched up before it can be sanded once again. And painted. 

While I was on that ladder, I was thinking about all the money we were saving. And all the time I have spent waiting for contractors of various types to show up and do the job that I probably could have done while waiting for the contractors to show up. 

My son, who was amused to hear that his former stuffed animals had served a purpose in our home improvement plans, has a rule of thumb when it comes to dealing with his major distraction: his cars. He will attempt most any repair from transmissions to brakes to all manner of fluid replacement. After he has done it once, he then decides if it is worth paying someone to do it the next time. I thought about this while I was standing on that ladder. 

I still don't change my own oil.

Then I got back to work.