Catastrophic Non-Failure

Every now and then, I seem to go through a period of time where so many things break, I am sure someone out there is sticking pins into tiny replicas of my possessions.

I recently ran across a scrapped blog post from last year where I complained of having several blinds break along with my lawn mower, sump pump, coffee pot, and a drill.

The most recent rash of failures included my computer, modem, router, lawn mower (yes, again), phone, and the little plug-thingie in the bathroom sink. Also my printer died a slow and agonizing death and then came back to haunt me. When my hair dryer shorted out in my hands with a tiny explosion, once the small fire was out and the shaking in my hands had subsided somewhat, I found myself laughing at the absurdity.

I was hoping those little fireworks were the finale to this round, but it turned out that was just an introduction to some of the big stuff. My garage door broke along with a door lock, my washer and dryer gave out, leaked, and shorted out. Now my computer has another virus. In spite of thousands of dollars’ worth of preventative maintenance, my car has a light that comes on, but the little scamp goes off as soon as I take it to The Car Guy.

Regardless, I am lucky they are just things.

My ex-husband used to pretend that it took some sort of skill to do home repairs. Really I find they just take time, money, the proper tools and often some physical strength—none of which I have in abundance.

But necessity really is the mother of invention. When my son was in high school, his car happened to get a flat tire in our garage. I can never remember where the jack goes, so we looked it up on YouTube. The whole incident became quite a blessing in disguise—not just for the mother-son bonding it inspired, but because of the way that one incident seemed to spark my son’s passion for internet-taught car repair. Now he’s the person I consult first when it comes to car problems.

And I find it pays to be sort of anal. It took me hours and hours, but when I recently replaced some door hardware, I was pretty excited that I was able to use poultry sheers and art supplies to fix a previous mistake. Now the door closes considerably more smoothly than before.

Right now I am tired, sore, behind on everything (as usual), wounded all over the place from various wrench accidents, and considerably poorer. But I’m also a little stronger, I own a few more tools, and I have a few more skills under my (tool) belt. I might be girly, but it doesn’t mean I can’t figure out how to change a spark plug. I’ve met some amazing people (such as the total stranger who just repaired some electrical work for me on a Saturday, and free of charge), and these breakages have sparked some wonderful conversations—with my children, with friends, and with acquaintances. As always, I am touched and inspired by the kindness of total strangers. Funny the way these things work: what you lose in stuff, you gain in a different set of resources. I am so, so blessed.

Take that, voodoo-ers.

You live you learn, you love you learn
You cry you learn, you lose you learn
You bleed you learn, you scream you learn…. ~From “You Learn” by Glen Ballard and Alanis Morissette