I can’t fix things. I just can’t. It’s one of those things that has never been easy for me, no matter how hard I try. This is one of those things that drives me crazy because I grew up with a dad who to this day can fix anything.
Today I decided to take off and finish up a few things that I’ve needed to finish for a while (months, years, who keeps track?). One of those was fixing a few pickets in our fence that had been broken. It was time to finally do the right thing and stop stacking stuff in front of the holes to keep the dogs contained.
Should be a simple job. Buy a few pickets. Take down the old ones. Nail up the new ones. Even add a step of shaving a little off the width of two pickets to make it all fit nicely.
Several hours, injuries, badly-cut pickets and creative words later, I’m done and our fence looks….well, it no longer has gaping holes, and let’s leave it at that.
It really frustrates me too because I see exactly what needs to be done to fix things, but I just can’t do it. If it’s a creative job, I’m your guy. I can sit down and teach myself any new design or photography technique. I can hammer out a good chunk of a novel in just a day or two. But anything involving an actual hammer just doesn’t work for me. And I wish it did.