At this time of year I transform into ‘Mister Fix-It’. It’s not that I’m interested, or much use, at DIY, you understand.
I just try to keep down bills at Edmonds Towers.
It’s during winter months that She Who Knows has a mental list of ‘Jobs To Do’.
During summer, we both enjoy being outdoors in sunshine. Now, however, there’s no ignoring that chipped gloss finish on woodwork; fading emulsion in a corner of the room, or an overdue tidy-up round home and gardens.
“We could get someone in this time,” She Who Knows muses, while casting a critical eye.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan!” is my trained response – before springing forth again as ‘Action Man’.
First, of course, I need to check up on latest trade techniques and materials – from ‘advisers’, down in my local at early doors.
My father used to do the same, except he’d chat to retired neighbours over a pint of home brew, or the helpful man at our local hardware shop (now a beautician’s).
A fitted kitchen, mother wanted; also new paintwork, inside and out; then freshly hung wallpaper... poor old Dad. Still, choosing new paper and colours kept her occupied for months.
When decided, Dad never batted an eye – or paid for help, unless it was with plumbing or electrics. No, into that garden shed and workshop he’d go; emerging only to measure up, then bravely get stuck in.
In those ‘good, old days’, dads turned their hands to every job around the house, blowtorch or brush in hand. Some years, he even made us kids our Christmas toys.
Nowadays, of course, we all expect better. Also, everything is made more easy for us.
However, if we’re honest, we’ll never quite match those home heroes of old.
* For Roy’s books, on Kindle or in paperback, visit royedmonds-blackpool.com; Plackitt & Booth, Lytham, or Blackpool Cricket Club.