Some peole are born handy. Others get divorced, buy a house, and have handiness forced upon them. Guess which one I am? In fact, three or four years ago, you could have easily convinced me that “drill chuck” was a hockey team position or a cut of beef. Today, I walked into Ace Hardware and bought a new drill chuck, because I couldn’t find mine, and also a few other small items. Then I came home and
*repaired my back garden hose by chopping off the balky end and installing a new one (yay once again for internet tutorials).
*shoveled the potting soil out of a 1/2 whiskey barrel left here by the former home owners. Not only did I get some good soil for my rock garden,* but I found they’d half-filled it with some nifty rocks.
*Using a 3″ diameter hole saw (something I had no idea existed before last weekend — yay for the nice men at Bomgaars), I drilled a hole low in the side of the whiskey barrel. THAT was work, let me tell you; the barrel is hardwood and I had to brace the drill against my knee and follow the hole saw with a couple of runs with a 1/8″ bit before I could knock the hole out.
*Using my woefully inadequate muscles and grunt-chanting “lift with you knees,” I moved the barrel to the front of my house to serve as a hose pot for my front yard hose. Not as decorative as the lovely metal and pottery ones you see in catalogues, but $100+ cheaper and the hose doesn’t have to be coiled as neatly.
And now I’m going to take a handy little nap.
*which I weeded and hoed yesterday, preparing empty areas marked out last summer for plantings this weekend.