For most of my marriage, my husband and I have had to do things around the house ourselves. This implies a “we” component though it’s mostly him. For the big things anyway. When I say big I mean parging the foundation, re-doing the roof, replacing the bathroom, hauling big-assed stones for my gardens: you get the idea. For my role it’s more of the buying household items on the huge sales, hunting bargains at re-use stores and robbing Peter to pay Paul so we can pay the bills. This can do attitude has got us through the first 15 years of our marriage quite well. But now ? Now I can pay someone else to do it.
Now you’d think that after honing this can-do attitude to an end sharp enough to point brick, we’d like to continue with this. I’m going to vote no. I’m going to say enough. I’m going to finally, for the first time in my adult life, pay someone to fix something in my house that doesn’t involve the HVAC. My husband is a millwright, not an electrician, so some things are out of his capable hands. We took the first steps towards this nirvana state of not having to do it ourselves last night. My beloved chair has fallen in to a state of disrepair that requires numerous blankets and pillows to make presentable. Because it now falls in to the realm of being possible, we’ve decided to investigate getting it recovered: by someone else.
We made the mistake of allowing a certain furniture restoration company to come to our house to do a “free estimate” on this much beloved chair that will always have a place in my home and more specifically under my butt. It’s now over 50 years old, has held only two butts regularly in its life, fit four dogs of various sizes and temperments and countless moments of cuddles with my babies. This chair is not going anywhere. Had I allowed what turned out to be a very sketchy company access to my beloved chair and anything had happened to it, I would not be held responsible for the damage I would inflict upon this company. I have an arsenal of tools at my disposal and I’m not afraid to throw them pointy end out.
Needless to say, after a three hour appointment that ended with me walking away from the table after two, I did the necessary research as anyone who is not doing it themselves should. What I found scared me even more than I was already ticked off with the pushy, manipulative, lying, snake-oil salesman wackadoodle that tried to bully us in to giving up my chair for possibly three months. I would sooner strip the chair myself than let this company any where near it. While I’m now in the position of being able to afford to pay someone else, that doesn’t mean I have to.
While my enthusiasm for being able to say “I did that” or “Look what my husband did” will never wane, and experiences like last night make me want to learn how to wield a manly staple gun, we have booked another company who we have experience with to come and take a look at my beloved chair. I might have to have my toolbox strategically placed by the chair with all manner of pointy things sticking out of it just to be safe. The only positive thing I can say about the nasty chair snatching wannabe is that we learned a thing or two about what to look for in an upholsterer and what to run from.
My point you ask ? I like that with our career changes and subsequent success, my husband and I will have the choice of paying someone else to do some of the jobs we just don’t have time for or REALLY don’t like. We are no longer beholden to take cast off furniture but we can choose to restore that which we love. We have the opportunity to save the cash instead of having to put it on credit. Why does this matter ? What is the big deal ? I guess to most folks probably not much. But to me ? It is a big deal. It does matter. Because we took a chance to improve our lives by getting more education. Because we believed in ourselves and our family enough to put the hard work in and change our stars. Because now, through that hard work and perseverance, we can. Can what you say ? Anything we want.