Seismologists would have registered it as at least a 5.7 on the Richter Scale...An earthquake measuring between a 5.0 - 5.9 is described as follows: "Can cause damage of varying severity to poorly constructed buildings. At most, none to slight damage to all other buildings. Felt by everyone. Casualties range from none to a few." There were no casualties of which I am aware. Well, unless you count my bruised ego. It was the early 1990's and I had just "kinda" installed a ceiling fan in our kitchen. When I threw the switch, the blades began to rotate. So far, so good. They gained speed. And that's when the shaking began. Who knew you're suppose to balance the blades?
A scene from the classic "Andy Griffith Show" played in my head. "Aunt Bea, call the man!!!"
My Dad was "handy". There was nothing he couldn't fix. When I was just a toddler he converted our single car garage into a den. All by himself.
Electrical, plumbing, auto repair, painting, he did it all....
I am not "handy". I am clumsy, inept, bumbling, bungling, useless. Or, as my neighbors refer to me, "entertaining". I know they're out there. I can feel their eyes on me whenever I attempt any kind of task that requires.....uh, what's the word? Oh yeah. SKILL.
"Hey Blanche! Come here! Look! Jordan's trying to start his lawnmower...Hehehehehe....this oughta be good for a few laughs. Let's grab a coupla beers and watch him!!!..."
I just saw a statistic that 15% of men secretly fear the phrase "Some Assembly Required". I suspect the other 85% of men openly fear those words. And "Easy To Assemble". And "We Need To Talk"...but that's for another post.
Yesterday I swapped out Marianne's windshield wiper blades. All. By. Myself. No, I don't possess any "handyman" genes. But I've got something my Dad never had. "How To" videos on YouTube.