By Lucy Llewellyn Byard
The laundry hamper I ordered came in a flat box that needed a jack hammer to open it.
It seemed like the hamper wouldn’t be difficult to put together. The instructions seemed easy to read.
I started around noon. Put the thing together, which took a bit of time and then I hit a snag. I couldn’t get the last screw in as the holes didn’t line up. One hole was a tiny bit too high so I couldn’t get the hole in the metal plate up to allow the screw to go through.
It took forever to line them up. I actually unscrewed most panels and finally got it screwed in.
Then I turned it upside down and the same problem occurred in the screws at the bottom. I tried to bully the damn thing; pulling, pounding, loosening screws on most sides again.
Nothing worked.
Finally I pried out the plastic screw plug and was able to screw the necessary screw and clamp it so it holds the whole basket together. Victory!
It only took two hours…with one piece left in the supply bag.
I’m so over it. I’ll give it a few days before I find where that foot pad goes. Obviously on the bottom but the hamper is now full of laundry so I’ll wait until I wash them.
My second bedroom needed a chair so I ordered one online. It, too, came in a flat box and after pulling the contents out (the cushions were pancake flat), I began putting the frame together. Another fail, until I discovered that I had everything backward. It took forever to figure that out but when I did, the rest was easy.
I’m not sure what I’ve put together without any glitches, I just know that I try to approach any put-togethers with calm and peace in my heart, that way I don’t throw a hissyfit or a wrench.
There was a fantasy that I had of having a husband who was handy around the house and with massage abilities, but that fantasy never came to life. Just the opposite happened, I should have interviewed them before marrying them. (Them, yes them.) Got a chemical engineer, a lawyer, a mechanical engineer and a salesman. All useless around the house.
It’s so much easier to be single and pay for things, like fixing the slope of the porch, replacing the screens on the porch – I could actually do that but I’d need to climb a ladder so it seems safer to let my handyman climb the ladder.
My friend who lives in the Midwest strongly suggested that I don’t try to eliminate the Yellowjacket nest in the front porch light.
“That’s a fall and broken hip along with multiple stings waiting to happen,” she said.
I heard her but wasn’t entirely convinced that I couldn’t spray the nest with killer spray and rush inside.
The day after we spoke about it, she stepped on a wasp in her bare feet. She sent me a picture of her foot wrapped in cold presses. She thinks she got the whole wasp out, including the stinger.
What’s a girl to do?…okay, I’ll call the handyman. Maybe I can get him to cut down some low branches off my Mulberry tree, or rescreen the porch and, and, and…the list goes on.
Lucy Llewellyn Byard welcomes comments at [email protected]
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