Saturday, July 28, 2012

DIY

I have my very own toolbox with my very own set of tools.  Admittedly, they are more of the "girly" type, especially the little battery-operated drill/screw driver, and for most jobs in the house, I don't need a sixteen-ounce hammer.  I'm the next best thing to phobic about using power tools since I had the muffler and welding shop years ago.  Steve was holding a pipe overhead while I cut it with the Sawzall.  The saw bucked and I sliced into his inner wrist.  That about did it for me (and him!).  I've avoided power tools whenever possible ever since.

The top and bottom of the Dutch door to the milking room are held shut by a bolt dropped through corresponding holes.  The bottom hole wasn't quite big enough to let this happen easily.  Certainly not a big deal to fix; just get a larger bit and drill it out.  My little battery-run outfit wasn't going to be able to handle it, so I went down to No-Man's Land (the shop) and got the big Makita cordless drill.  Turning this and twisting that, I finally got the bits changed and locked into place.  That should have been a clue that I didn't have the slightest idea what I was doing, but I forged ahead just like I had good sense.

Hauling the heavy drill along with the milk buckets to the barn, it seemed prudent to fix the door before letting the girls out.  They vociferously disagreed with this plan, so I needed to hurry.  I was at a slight height disadvantage, so it was a bit awkward to get the bit placed just so, and it started to bind up about halfway down.  I know darned good and well there is a mechanism to get a drill to reverse, but I hadn't checked in advance where it was on the Makita, and I couldn't see because it was over my head.  Just fine.  Feeling like a complete idiot, I had to manually back the whole thing out just to get the drill out of the door.  The goats were bawling, Poppy was bellowing, I was sweating bullets.  Setting the drill aside, I took care of the morning's chores.

Giving myself a rah-rah pep talk, I picked up the Makita again, found the switch (marked with an F for forward, R for reverse, duh), and drilled the hole the right size.  Mission accomplished.  DIY, my Aunt Fanny!  But I got-'er-done.

1 comment:

Kathryn said...

Hahaha - not laughing AT you, mind you - but just laughing at the comedy of errors you so perfectly describe. But...you did indeed get it done, and just think, if it had gone smoothly and the girls had not been disrupted, you wouldn't have had such great blog fodder. Now Steve's wrist...that's another story! Yowza!