My DIY skills are legendary. Here's what happened when The Missus wanted the doors on the landing replaced
I spend all afternoon hanging a new door on the bathroom. I'm not a carpenter, and the last time I used an electric planer I was left with scars on the end of my (now shorter) middle finger that are still there 20 years later. I have a bad back and high blood pressure, but without a word of complaint I react to Er Indoors' hints. True, She has hinted since Christmas, but planning is vital in these matters.
So I try to explain that if the door fits on three sides, then the fourth side must by definition be OK too. The oddly shaped gap between the door jamb and the top of the door must be because the door frame wasn't square. There can be no other explanation.
And yes, it was necessary to use an electric screwdriver, two ordinary screwdrivers, a hammer, an electric plane, a manual plane, a yard stick, an electric drill with a variety of bits and a Workmate. The pint of Youngs Double Choclate Stout also was a vital part of the work. I tidied them up afterwards.
I think it totally unfair of Her to expect me to vacuum up the six inch deep layer of wood shavings, and Her use of the term 'another botch job' is quite frankly hurtful.
Some people are just never satisfied
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