The Handyman Can

What a week.

Dori broke out in a serious rash mid week, after taking an anti-biotic before a visit to the dentist. She never spiked a fever, a good sign, but her rash was pretty intense. So much so, that on Thursday night, she blacked out. I heard the fall in the kitchen, where she was getting a glass of water. After a rest, she almost passed out again. Serious flashbacks to 11 North this summer.

Dori's blood pressure is usually low, and apparently a rash can cause it to drop further. She missed a Girl's Night Out and Will's basketball game the last few days, but showed signs of improvement yesterday afternoon. With my Mom's comfort food, some family love, and plenty of Benadryl and Sarna skin creme, she continues to improve.

Today, Dori's Dad and his wife Carol and our clan headed on a scenic Sunday drive down the Natchez Trace Parkway. We stopped for lunch at Puckett's Grocery and Restaurant in Leipers Fork. Everyone loved it, especially the family bluegrass band that entertained us as we noshed. We toured the area like out-of-towners, sharing knowledge of landmarks and history. When we returned home, Kathryn and I leashed Pepper and hiked with Dori's Dad to our area hill that is a Civil War historic site. What a delightful day!

I'm not known for being very handy around the house. Three of the most dangerous words in my life have been "some assembly required." Yes, we've hired our share of Mr. Fix-It's over the years, though not as many in recent years as I've surfed the Internet for solutions. We did hire a window repairman a few weeks ago, but that's because I greatly respect glass, especially when it breaks near me.

A few weeks ago, the polypropylene backboard on the kid's basketboal goal broke. After an exhaustive search, I realized the only options were to pay $110 for a new backboard or buy the whole goal for two or three times that amount. Four years ago, my brother-in-law, who is very handy, had a difficult time assembling the goal. I helped in spots, but he did most of it.

Last week, the complete backboard arrived. The weather turned bad immediately, probably warning me not to attempt something I likely couldn't complete. Upon close inspection of the broken backboard, I heard myself say, "This is going to take a long time." Of course, the directions were useless. The nuts and bolts were in places not made for socket wrenches to reach, or any wrench for that matter. Who designed this thing?

If I failed, I would endure light-hearted ribbing, perhaps some mockery. My brother-in-law, who loaned me some special tools for the task, playfully said just to let him know when he was needed. No way, Jose. This one's mine, I said. I may have nine fingers soon, but it's mine.

I made progress, but couldn't unthread a few of the nuts that weren't interested in letting go. Neither was I, but I was going to need a friend to help provide the necessary torque. Dori's Dad arrived yesterday, and said, "Let's go." We spent an hour breaking down the broken backboard, then getting the new one started. We had several starts and stops, but pressed on. We had to end our efforts to make it to the kids' late afternoon basketball games, but I knew we would finish this weekend. Dori's Dad said he would be back today to help finish the job.

When he drove up the driveway this morning, I was finishing the final turn of the wrench. "You didn't need me," he said. No, I did, but I had fun finishing this on my own once the stubborn bolts had been overrun by their conquerors. We asked Will to take the ceremonial first shot. SWISH! "Now put one off the backboard," I said. No clang! Just a true bounce and another score.

Feel free to sing along: The Handyman can cause he mixes it with love and helps the boy shoot good.