It prompted the faintest of grins because it caused me to remember: I fixed a pump motor the day before — the highlight of my week.
I cannot fully explain why it gave me such satisfaction, such a feeling of achievement, but it did.
Like many of you, I went to college and got a degree and began a career so I wouldn’t have to fix my own stuff. I could pay someone else to do it while I wore a suit and a tie and focused on more cerebral, creative tasks.
But in making that choice I lost something.
I missed out on some sort of American reliance on figuring things out, on fixing what’s broken.
Since I became a homeowner I’ve discovered that I really do enjoy a good fix it/build it project. There’s a definite feeling of satisfaction in a job well done. Even if you’d never do it for a living, it’s somehow comforting and ennobling to know that you know how do something. And to be able to point to the proof. I’ve felt that way about many things, from the playhouse I built for my kids to the carpet edging around the fireplace I repaired. There’s always that moment when you step back to inspect your work and think to yourself, “Go, me!”