A DIY husband, however talented he may be, can be mortifying and exasperating.
He can also teach you a thing or two about stoicism.
Any job around the house, even if it is replacing a flush tank, involves not only research, but contemplation, discussion, designing, argument and deep contemplation again.
A sofa in the study can take over a year to materialize. Even so, fate must reconcile with Teja’s mood at the time.
Measurements of the space available to us are taken several times. Our requirements are enlisted several times, do we need to lounge on the sofa, do we need storage space under it, how will we open the drawer next to it, so on and so forth. The designs are then put into a drawer, we forget all about the sofa for several days, and after a month or so, the discussion begins again.
One day, when he feels specially indulgent towards me, particularly after I have nagged and nagged for 2 days, and added some tears, we go to our favorite store and look at the designs. I say, “We may just find a sofa we like, which fits into our space, and we can buy right away.” He nods.
We do find a sofa we both like. I also find a small coffee table with four pullout stools that fits into the study perfectly. I reach for my credit card. Teja says, “We’ll go back home and take the measurements of the space.” I know it is futile to argue.
In the car, Teja says, “I could make a better sofa for you at half the price. Forget the money, but we could make it exactly as we want. Of course, if you like the sofa, let’s buy it. I’d like you to be happy. It’s just that I like making furniture, you know.”
The man has learned feminine guile.
I say, “But I want a wooden one like the one we saw. Not a ply box.”
He says, “Of course. Look I have found a wood cutting mill near Valsad. They have all the machines I require. I can take the exact measurements, mark the cuts for the joints and have them give me the finished pieces of wood. Then all I have to do is nail them together at home.”
I say, “Really?” No sawdust flying around, no instruments lying around, no general mess around the house, for weeks.
He continues, “If you like that coffee table, you buy it. It’s really nice, and I couldn’t make anything like that, at that cost.”
I say, “Really? You mean that?”
He says, “Yes, I like it too.”
I test him out, “Should we turn back and get it right now?”
He says, “Now?”
I say, “Yes, why not? We are still close by.”
He says, “OK.”
I cannot believe my luck. This means he really likes the coffee table. I’m already planning the room around the coffee table, on our way back to the store.
I look at the coffee table proprietarily and tell the attendant, “I want that.”
He looks confused. He makes calls. “The Set-of-5 is discontinued, Madam. And this piece is sold. The website is down, so I can’t check the stocks in other stores for a week. But maybe, after that …”
I leave my name and number and sulk all the way home.
Teja says, “If they don’t get it for you, I’ll make it for you.”
Then, we stop to look yet again at TV sets. Teja cannot put together a TV even if he would like to. So, for a year, we have stared at TVs every time we have passed an electronics store. For hours, Teja has researched various TVs, brands, costs, technical specifications on the Internet. Dhanno and I can now answer all his questions on the differences between Plasma, LED and LCD TVs. We finally deserve to buy one. Teja makes the calls, books a deal. We wait a day, 2 days. The day our TV is meant to be delivered, is an all-India bandh.
Teja says, “It will come in a day or two. Maybe, we should re-paint the study before we get the new TV. Plus we need to get that wall water-proofed. And we will need a new DVD player cabinet. Let me make the designs. I should also check out the options for wall mounts.”
There are times when the little green elves have it in for me. Or maybe it is Miss God. Or maybe my long-departed Maaji who was not at all what grandmothers should be like. And to whose mind, I was not the granddaughter I ought to be. It is times like these when I wonder if I ought to be wearing some lucky stones or magic bracelets.
But the research involved in procuring these, defeats me.
Papadu got these two benches made a while ago, which we use as sofas, with a thin mattress flung over them, a bedsheet covers the mattress. I got a sofa maker to come home and tell me how much it will cost to foam the sofas. Eight thousand bucks.
“Don’t even think about it.’, says hubby, ‘ These benches I got made out of leftover wood, I didnt even pay the carpenter. they cost us less than five hundred each. No need to spend thousands on them. They deserve to be mattressed only.’
Ah, Grasshopper, we are in the same boat. 🙂
It may be feminine guile but it is also Mercury retrograde. 🙂
Mercury retrograde, bang on. 🙂
what is mercury retrograde?
please forgive my ignorance! 😦
🙂 The time (in astrology) when everything can go wrong. Sort of like an astral Murphy’s Law. Supposedly thrice a year, for about three weeks at a time, Mercury gets up to his usual tricks (he is the trickster of the Gods, isn’t he? in mythology?). Scientifically, it is the time when Mercury appears to be travelling counterclockwise around the sun. “Appears’ being the operative word. It’s an optical illusion.
End of astrology lesson. 🙂 That will be 100 deustchemarks, thank you.
Hahahaha. I’m sure it’s infuriating to live through but it makes the most endearing blogposts for your readers. (Also, I totally relate – Teja sounds exactly like my dad!).
Yes, Purnima, what would I do without these ‘characters’ in my life? My dad was the same too.
this post cracked me up. I do sympathize having had to help the ex try and fix the washing machine (3 hours of standing around, couldn’t fix it)
I think you’re just going to have to make the executive decision.
Tin Roof Press, I refuse to stand around anymore while HE fixes things. But I do have to clear up the mess afterwards.
I am sorry but I laughed until tears came 🙂 (And I’m sure you’re tearing up through sheer vexation! See, this is why all the DIY stuff at home is done by me – if I want it taken care of *when* I want it taken care of, then I’d better do it myself. Maybe the next time you could present him with a fait accompli? Just have all them all delivered and coo “See, darling, they fit!” All the best. 🙂
Ah, Anu. One day, I will. The truth is I know he will make a beautiful sofa. If only it would not take so long. 🙂
You’re a saint! There would have been (justifiable, IMNSHO) homicide, if this was me! 🙂
M, one can kill only once. So I guess I should wait some more. 🙂
ROTFL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Such a wonderfully written post! Loved it from the first word to the last and didn’t want it to end!
More of it!
No Advice from me! It would such a pity to change anything in your BEAUTIFUL relationship!
BTW, what is DIY?
dear harvey, since no one has seen fit to enlighten you, it stands for ‘Do It Yourself’.
Thanks Anu, for standing in. Hadn’t checked my account for a few days.
Thank You, Anu!
Yeah, koi mujhe puchhta hi nahin!
Thank you, Harvey. 🙂
Love that post! My hubby is no DIY, so I am the one who has to do these things, or find someone who will, but I can relate to your situation in other respects, namely, buying things. I wanted an ordinary DVD player which would play all my DVDs, he did the research, and now we have a hi-tech DVD player which cost considerably more than the one I had in mind, and will not play the DVDs I bought at the local store, which the cheapo one would have! Oh well, those DVDs are now lying all stacked up in one corner.
Ah, these new-fangled machines. The better they are, the less useful. I got talked in into buying a complicated convection oven, when all I wanted is a simple OTG. Now it frightens the wits out of me.
I am pretty sure that if you wanted to make him do something Teja would do it for you 🙂 Can’t wait to see whatever it is you end up with!
🙂 You’ve judged Teja right, Memsaab. I’m waiting to see what I end up with, too.
Banno, I laughed and laughed. These DIY husbands are the same the world over. You wrote about it so drily, so beautifully, I had tears of mirth running down my cheeks.
Kate, thanks. So, you are blessed too? 🙂
Teja ke yahaan der hai, andher nahin hai!!!!!
But I can just see your patience unravel at the edges!
The SRE, fortunately, is totally not DIY, so I have a more or less free hand in getting things done.
( My only condition, which is more often than not honoured in the breach, is that he will not criticise the outcome).
Dipali, to expect that your husband is not DIY, AND not critical, is expecting a bit too much from life. 🙂
he he…didnt realize we had the same breed of hubbies! mine built our entire basement. took a little over a year and i was this close to pulling all my hair out.
At least, he was in the basement, Sukanya. Not in the living room. 🙂
My youngest brother is a professional builder. He persuaded our mother to replace the wooden paling fence across the back of her yard with a beautiful bluestone wall, much more sturdy and secure you know. The demolition of the wooden fence took a couple of hours. The replacement…Well. He started. We waited. Then I went overseas for a couple of years. He finally finished it a few weeks before I came back home!
Temple, a bluestone wall does sound beautiful and sturdy. But the time .. 🙂 I am glad you went off overseas and didn’t have to wait around for the wall to be built. I am hoping that I get back my study soon.
I hope so too! Waiting for a new post, Banno- hope it isn’t contingent on getting your study back 🙂
No, Dipali. I’ve been travelling, home, to Pune and Baroda. And other things, which hopefully, I’ll get down to writing about soon.
Missing you loads! I’ve been on the move too.