Do It Myself?

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Have you ever wondered how much you have inherited from your parents? Personality traits, looks, skills and talents, maybe political opinions. And no doubt there are many other ways. For this week’s Writer’s Workshop John Holton has given us a prompt of ‘the most useless class you took,’ and this seems to be the right time to admit one of my failings.

My Dad was absolutely brilliant at DIY-type things. He made some of our furniture, built an extension to our house, was able to fix things when they went wrong, and generally turned his hand to just about anything. Did his little boy inherit his skills? Not in any shape or form! For the first year at grammar school (i.e. from the age of 11) we were given classes in craftwork, both with wood and metal. This was completely alien to me, and I was lucky that it wasn’t an exam subject counting towards anything. In both of these we were tasked with making two things, and in both of them I was so slow that I only completed one. The metalwork one was to make a pointing trowel. Don’t ask me how I did it – I didn’t know then and  sure as hell don’t now! I can remember it was quite small, probably about four or five inches long, and whilst it looked the part both my teacher and I had doubts about its potential usefulness. I took it home to give to Dad, who was very kind about it. Funnily enough, though, I don’t ever recall him using it, and I later found it tucked away in a toolbox in the shed when I was clearing it out before we moved house, after my parents divorced. He clearly didn’t think it was worth taking with him!

Like mine – but better

The woodworking class object that I managed to complete was a teapot stand – remember them, from the days before teabags? This was, for me, an incredibly complicated task, involving the alteration of a square piece of wood into an octagon (sawing, planing, varnishing and probably some 11yo swearing) and then making a base from two pieces of wood which somehow got jointed together without the aid of glue, nails or a safety net. A few panel pins and two became one, and I took home my masterpiece.

I should perhaps mention that despite all of my efforts, the base pieces had been left with a very fine irregularity, which meant that the stand wasn’t totally flat when placed on a surface. It wasn’t a pronounced wobble, more a delicate swaying, but movement was definitely present! My Mum, bless her, immediately dispensed with the old kitchen tile she had used for the teapot and started using her little lad’s creation. Surprisingly, we never had an accident with it, so maybe it was just about fit for purpose.

A bit like mine – but better

But these were still the two most useless classes I have ever taken, and I was so relieved when I didn’t have to do them any more. Give me books and a pen any time! As I grew up I had plenty of opportunities to improve my DIY skills, with mixed results. There was the time after we had moved into our new home and installed a new kitchen sink. Or tried to. After a very long time trying – and failing – to stop a drip falling from the joint between the tap and the main water pipe I ended up declaring defeat and calling out a pro. He fixed it in next to no time, and took pity on me by only charging his standard call out fee, even though it was a bank holiday weekend for which the rate was usually double. Maybe I should have attended a plumbing class before taking on the task? Or maybe that wouldn’t have helped!

My lack of DIY skills became a part of family legend. When my older daughter was eight I took her down to spend the day with my Mum. Believe it or not Mum was still using that teapot stand, some thirty years later, and told Katy that her Daddy had made it for her. The look of disbelief on Katy’s face was something to behold! So maybe that class wasn’t totally useless after all – even if I was!

I started this by asking you to think about what your parents might have bestowed on you. This is an interesting question for me, and I can think of several good things that are still with me, even if Mum and Dad aren’t. I hope you can say the same for yours.

That’s it for today, and I leave you with my thanks to John for hosting his weekly show and for the prompt. And of course, I’ll leave you with a suitable little song, by the inimitable Bernard Cribbins, who had a UK #10 with this in 1962:

37 thoughts on “Do It Myself?”

  1. I know Right Said Fed – hoorah! I have a suitcase stuffed with my son’s artworks and other achievements. I also have all the Christmas decorations they made as kids and I hang them on the tree every year. That is the difference between mothers and fathered – mothers hang on to these things forever. My mom has cards I made her as a girl that she’s keep for decades.

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  2. My Dad could make anything, though he didn’t actually talk much! He should have been a carpenter by trade, but he and his brother were sent to work in the post office as a secure job. My brother and his son have inherited that talent. Like my brother my younger son never did any work at school, refused to countenance doing an apprenticeship, but is now brilliant at making things having learnt in a rather convoluted way. He and his wife run their own interiors business. More importantly he has done lots of work on my house and his brother and sister’s! My daughter does the DIY and says her husband has emotional intelligence…

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  4. This is so much like my own life. My dad could make anything, fix anything. He used me as an unwilling labourer for most projects, and I never inherited a single DIY skill. But because he worked in the record business, he introduced me to so many different styles of music, and also got me almost any record I wanted, free of charge. But he wasn’t a ‘nice’ man as such. He was often unfaithful, coild be very dismissive of both me and my mum, and eventually left my mum for another woman when I was 24. My mum taught me one thing. To be kind to be kind to animals and other people, and I conclude that was better than knowing how to wallpaper a room.

    Best wishes, Pete.

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    • It sounds like you had a mixed relationship with your Dad. Mine was a lovely guy, and remained that way until he passed three years ago, at the age of 95. He also left for another, just a few days after my 16th birthday – that was a week I’ll never forget! But it was the right thing for him to do, rather than live a lie, and it never caused any trouble between us.

      Your Mum had a good values set, and taught you well.

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  5. You sound somewhat like me, Clive. My wife didn’t marry much of a do-it-yourselfer. When we were first married and didn’t have any money, I tried to fix everything. Sometimes I managed to do it, even if it took twice as long as it should have. We’re hardly wealthy now, but I would much rather pay someone with expertise rather than cause myself aggravation.

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      • Ahh, that makes sense now. I like that approach, letting the song itself hint at the story behind it. Music has such a subtle way of revealing things without saying everything outright. It’s one of the reasons I enjoy working with lyrics so much. Out of curiosity, what usually inspires the songs you choose or write about?

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      • Most of the songs I play are themed for Tuesday Tunes or in response to the weekly prompt for Song Lyric Sunday. Plus there are others in my various occasional series. There is one rule: I never play anything I don’t like.

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      • That’s such a great approach! I love that you stick to what truly resonates with you. I’d be excited to collaborate with you as your female songwriter and create a romantic or love-themed song that fits your style. I can craft lyrics that capture the mood you want and bring your ideas to life.

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      • Sorry, but I have absolutely no pretensions to being a creator, nor do I have any talent. A nice offer, but I’m afraid I must decline.

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      • Thank you so much for your honest response I truly appreciate you taking the time to reply. I completely respect your decision, and there’s absolutely no pressure whatsoever. It was a genuine pleasure reaching out, and I wish you all the very best. Take care!

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  9. That is a good question, maybe I have the controlling part from my dad… when even that is not a skill. All the skills I have, like singing, crafting, creating natural cosmetics, writing, … I definitely don’t have from my parents… lol

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    • Thank you, Nancy. Found you in spam again! I’m glad you liked this, and I’ve no doubt there are many parents who have had similar experiences. Having only had daughters it wasn’t the same for me – needlework, mostly. That video is fun, isn’t it – that was what made our charts back in 1962!

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      • That’s aggravating about the spam. I wondered if that’s what happened when I did not hear back from you in your usual timely manner. I hope WP can get this straightened out for you.

        We have a small wooden ‘table’ our son made in woodworking class. It looks more like a footstool but I’ve never used it as such. It’s a good way to display a couple of my smaller plants. So far, it’s still standing! 😂

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      • Irony of ironies – this comment went straight into spam too, but as I was already on the computer I noticed at once – for a change.

        Good to know your table is still fit for purpose 🤣

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