Dear Suzy,
When I went away to college, my dad gave me the keys to a ’79 Mustang and waved goodbye. I knew absolutely nothing about cars and the experience was purely trial and error. Every now and then I would take it to a full service station and pop the hood. No one ever told me that I needed to put oil in the damn thing. It overheated at every red light or if anyone was foolish enough to touch the AC. I frequently depended upon the kindness of strangers when stranded along the highway and I handed out my father’s business cards just in case these angels straight from heaven happened to be in north Louisiana and needed legal assistance. My father finally sold the thing for $500 after I graduated. Well, my husband and I just bought a little house and since we know nothing about maintenance and repair, we would hate to end up in a few years with the equivalent to my Mustang. Could you pass along a little top 10 list of “important things we don’t know we have to do”?
Rebecca R.
Dear Rebecca,
When I left for college my dad handed me the keys to a 1979 Chevy Caprice classic. Dog-poop brown. I looked like a narc or an IRS agent in the thing. I, too, never knew it would need oil — I hardly knew it needed gas — and the Caprice was 40,000 miles older before I was smart enough to hook up with a man, Richard, who knew about oil changes. (Okay, okay, so cancel my subscription to Independent Womyn.)
Richard has taught me many other life lessons, like how to turn a finish nail so that it cuts through the wood grain rather than splits it, and how to wire up a three-way switch. And I’ve taught him a couple of things, like how his shoes will fit better if he occasionally cuts his toenails and how sometimes a little planning makes a project run smoother, especially if it involves right angles. Since we always say, “Together we make half a brain,” I think together we can make a half-ass Top Ten Ways to Not Ruin Your House:
10. Do not put up vinyl siding. It’s like covering a corpse with a sheet and expecting it not to rot.
9. Watch where the water goes. Don’t let it in the house. Be diligent about roof repairs (that black gooey patch should be illegal).
8. Get a really good ladder so you can inspect the roof for gouging branches, clean the gutters, and put screens over plumbing vents so squirrels don’t fall in. (This really happened at one of our rent houses. Too gruesome for details.)
7. Buy good paint and great brushes. Prep like hell.
6. Don’t sweat the little things. I’ve seen people shave 10 years off their lives because they’re so stressed out about the switch plate covers being ivory instead of white.
5. Change your air conditioner filter monthly and hose off the condenser unit outside when it’s dirty.
4. If the water trickles out your faucets, unscrew the defuser on the end of the faucet, take it apart, clean out the mystery chunks that accumulate there, and you’ve solved the problem.
3. Start small. Wanna tile the bathroom? Try a tabletop first. Wanna refinish the wood floors? Start with a closet. Allow three times longer and twice the cost on any project. Buy a good book on the subject. I particularly like the Time/Life series on Home Repair and Improvement, which are sometimes plentiful at Half Price Books. (I got a huge set at the Hudson Bend Volunteer Fire Department Garage Sale.)
2. Buy a cordless drill — a good one — and boxes of every size of drywall screw. I’ve always thought if my hand got chopped off somehow, I’d want a cordless drill attached in its place.
And the Number One Way Not to Ruin Your House, not to mention your marriage, your sanity, your back and your bank account: Learn to celebrate the infinite nature of home repair, remodeling, and maintenance. It’s never going to be finished, so you might as well enter a Zen-like state and enjoy the process.
Are you sure you want my advice? If so, then e-mail your questions to me at: Suzebe@aol.com or snail mail ’em to: The Austin Chronicle, PO Box 49066, Austin, TX 78765.
This article appears in July 18 • 1997 and July 18 • 1997 (Cover).