Handy Man

Genetics are a wonderful thing. You get the best genes from your parents. Although, sometimes you get the not so good ones. And sometimes, they, genes I mean, bypass you all together. And the bypass is my story.


My dad was handy. There isn’t anything that he could not do. He rebuilt car engines, repaired furniture; fixed boat motors, make an enclosed patio for the house. One time, he took a van, cut off the top and sides, welded a camper on it, and placed siding on it, and painted the whole thing. It turned out very well and looked like what you would find at most RV places. Did I mention that he did this over one Idaho winter in our tiny garage? Yep, he was pretty handy. My brother is the same way, Handy.

I, on the other hand, pun intended, am not. Everything I have ever built always looks like a box. Except when I am trying to make a box. Then it turns out to be some misshapen figure that wobbles and you must tilt your head to one side before you can identify it.

Our current house has been in the transformation stage ever since T. and I got married. We have, I mean she has, been painting different parts of the house and each room with the exception of one, the guest room, needs a bit more work before we could say they are finished.

So, this morning, wanting to contribute, I was going to tackle a simple and quick fix up. About three, wait maybe four, years ago, we had someone re-model our bathroom. It turned out really nice, but he had to remove the door, trim and part of the wall to get our one-piece tub and shower into the bathroom. Oh, and prior to that, I had to cut out a false wall in our entryway in order to get it into the house. That area still needs work as well. But that will have to wait. Today, I was concentrating on the outer bathroom door trim.
 
After the re-model, the door trim was nailed back and putty was put on the nail holes. So for the past few years, there was a green painted door trim with white spots of putty. And today, they were going to be gone. So, I sanded down the putty and cleaned up the dust. I then went to the garage and found the paint can that was clearly marked “Front room trim”. The paint on the outside of the can matched the color so I proceeded to shake the can, mixing it up well and found a trusty sponge paintbrush and spot painted the areas of trim that needed it.

As always, fresh paint looks a little different until it dries, so I waited. Two hours later, paint still looks different. From twenty feet away, it looks pretty good. Close-up, not so much.

 I don’t know how this happens, but genetics, or lack thereof, has to have something to do with it. I am now debating on whether I should paint the whole door trim and door to at least make it match. I mean, what can go wrong with that plan?