Over 14 years, a lot has changed in the décor here at Aloe House. A room originally named for a friend has become the Mardi Gras room, with masks, beads and souvenirs from New Orleans. The Pennsylvania room is now devoted to boats and beaches, and stencils in the kitchen and bathroom have been painted over.
One thing, though, has remained the same: I always have my tool bouquet handy. This is a cup, once a travel mug, filled with screwdrivers and pliers, always there to open a paint can or cleaning product, grab a malfunctioning drawer or pry loose a humidity-sealed window.
Recently reaching for the bouquet, I realized that such an essential here is not a priority when I am in the U.S. There, the bouquet is hidden under the sink, and my other essential tools (hammer, chisel, can of WD-40) are tucked even farther away.
Yes, of course. We rent in Richmond. Repairs are just a service call away, and a guy comes to fix the ice maker or the toilet.
Here in North Caicos, we are homeowners in a place where it’s not likely that someone can/will come by to fix your problem, or that a simple solution means a quick trip to Lowe’s or Home Depot. Planning a day on Provo, with the ferry ride, car rental and unbelievable prices at the Do-It Center, is hardly quick or simple.
And so I have become obsessed with having tools … and now at both places, because of my fairly recent immersion (about four years) in mosaic art. On North Caicos, I find myself wishing for a sprayer nozzle for the hose. In Richmond, I envy Lorraine’s awl, glass cutter and grinder.
I haven’t stepped foot in a jewelry store for almost a decade, maybe longer, and I buy clothes only when I have to. But a hardware store or home center? Heaven.
Flowers fade, chocolates put on pounds and fashions go out of fashion. There is a certain kind of girl, guys, who wants you to say it with a Swiss army knife!
One thing, though, has remained the same: I always have my tool bouquet handy. This is a cup, once a travel mug, filled with screwdrivers and pliers, always there to open a paint can or cleaning product, grab a malfunctioning drawer or pry loose a humidity-sealed window.
Recently reaching for the bouquet, I realized that such an essential here is not a priority when I am in the U.S. There, the bouquet is hidden under the sink, and my other essential tools (hammer, chisel, can of WD-40) are tucked even farther away.
Yes, of course. We rent in Richmond. Repairs are just a service call away, and a guy comes to fix the ice maker or the toilet.
Here in North Caicos, we are homeowners in a place where it’s not likely that someone can/will come by to fix your problem, or that a simple solution means a quick trip to Lowe’s or Home Depot. Planning a day on Provo, with the ferry ride, car rental and unbelievable prices at the Do-It Center, is hardly quick or simple.
And so I have become obsessed with having tools … and now at both places, because of my fairly recent immersion (about four years) in mosaic art. On North Caicos, I find myself wishing for a sprayer nozzle for the hose. In Richmond, I envy Lorraine’s awl, glass cutter and grinder.
I haven’t stepped foot in a jewelry store for almost a decade, maybe longer, and I buy clothes only when I have to. But a hardware store or home center? Heaven.
Flowers fade, chocolates put on pounds and fashions go out of fashion. There is a certain kind of girl, guys, who wants you to say it with a Swiss army knife!