John’s grandfather was a contractor,
and at some point in time, John worked for him. John even inherited a bunch of
Grandpa Hansen’s tools, all of which lack any sort of safety features
whatsoever. John’s grandpa taught him everything he knew, and when John gave up
truck driving as a career, he became a contractor.
Actually, he was more of a handyman,
but he felt that title was demeaning and told me to either call him a carpenter
or a contractor. The fact of the matter was he could do it all. You need
plumbing, John was your man. You need electrical work, John was your man. You
need carpentry work, John was your man. He even did design work and drew up
plans when required. I’m sure you can see why I thought that at some point we’d
find some property and build our own house.
That never happened, and I must tell
you that if you came to visit and took a serious look around my house, you
would not have hired John to do anything for you at all. I know they say
electricians have extension cords, shoemaker’s children go barefoot, etc., but
when it comes to your own home, I always thought that’s where you should/could
do your best work.
Instead, I heard from his clients all
about the wonderful work he did in their homes. In some cases, I even saw the
results…wallboard smooth with no cracks or nail holes, perfect finish work and
so on. His 20-plus career as a “contractor” kept him busy and paid bills
without his ever advertising once. Most of his clients were older women whose
husbands had died or become unable to do much around the home. So, Mary told
Susan who told Marcy, who told Edna, who told Mrs. Smith, who told Mrs. Pond
and so on for all those years. I seriously believe that at one point if every
single woman over the age of 65 had died en masse, we would have starved.
Now, I’m older than some of those
women were back then, and I have a “handyman” of my own. I hired him a couple
of years ago to redo part of the deck. He’s done a few other things for me, and
I hope to hire him for additional work later this spring. The last time I
contacted him, his wait list was very long, so perhaps I ought to call him now
and at least get on the bottom of the list.
In any case, the whole point of this
post is, I guess, that there comes a time when some dreams have to be put aside
because they’ll never happen. I’ll never help design a home with a roof that
lasts forever, hot water tank in the bathroom so I don’t have to wait forever
for the hot water to arrive, and with as many time-saving and environmentally
saving attributes as possible. My dream of building my own little home has been
scratched off the list. Instead, I’ll just keep watching Fixer Upper and envying
Joanna Gaines.