Unplugged

I understand that I am not your typical “lady.” While I often enjoy dressing up, doing my hair, and going out with my husband and my friends, I have no trouble wearing jeans, sweats, shorts, any other comfortable clothing.

My hair is not dyed, my nails are cut short. This is really a matter of taste not convenience, although, having my nails short, often comes in handy.

I don’t dye my hair because I refuse to be “tied to the bottle.”

Growing up, my mom was bewildered by my tom-boy ways often wondering why she was blessed with such an unfeminine daughter.

I hated dolls! I preferred playing with my brothers Lionel trains or my dad’s tools.

My brother wasn’t interested in tools; he preferred his guitar. My mom enrolled me in ballet class hoping it would make me to be graceful. It didn’t. She finally gave up and let me be me!

Once I turned thirteen, she was relieved to see my interest transfer from tools to boys. My dad, on the other hand, still preferred to ask me rather than my brother for help when he repaired things around the house. It seemed I had more of an interest and adaptability.

All of this came in handy when my first marriage collapsed. I could repair things that often befuddled my husband. He wasn’t happy when I could “out-repair” him.

I could help my sons work on their cars. Changing a tire or the oil in the car, could be done in my sleep. Mechanical things amused me.

Many years later, I met a man who enjoyed my quirkiness. Our first date was a fishing trip. Trying to be polite, he rigged a pole, handed it to me, and began rigging another. I looked at him and asked, “Where’s the rod I’m supposed to use?” He replied, “I handed it to you before I rigged this one.”

“Uh, no!” I said, “No one rigs a fishing rod for someone else. They rig their own.” He genuinely looked confused.

“Yeah, but I was being polite.”

I thanked him and said that I’d use it this one time but, in the future, allow me to rig my own.

That was all he needed. He told his friends he met the perfect woman. She didn’t get seasick, love to fish, and had no qualms about rigging her own pole.

The first year we were married, he bought me, for Christmas, all feminine things. What on earth was I to do with a leather miniskirt? It hung in the closet never worn until I decided it was time to give it away.

The following year, he asked what I wanted. I told him I need a new Allen Key set. “You want what?”

“A 16-piece Allen Hex Key set. Through the years, after lending them out, several had gotten lost. I want a new set!”

He’d never heard of a woman asking for tools before but seeing the look on my face, he knew I was serious.

This went on through the years. I never failed to surprise him.

A few years ago, an electric Christmas ornament broke. He knew exactly what to give me for Christmas. He gave me a new soldering iron. I was beyond thrilled. The old one I had wasn’t working as well as it had been, and I really wanted another.

We have a really lovely ceiling fan/light in the kitchen which works completely by remote control. I pressed the button for the light. It didn’t work. Curiously, I tried the fan. That didn’t work, either.

Time to change the battery.

We’ve all been there with 9-volt batteries. You try to dislodge it from its clip, and it refuses to budge. You try prying it lose. Nothing!! Out of desperation, you tug. Still stuck! Using a screwdriver, will sometimes, push the battery away from the holding elements, but not always.

This is what happened to me. One battery terminal allowed the battery to dislodge; the other still refused to let go, however, it did dislodge the terminal completely rendering the clip useless.

I knew exactly what to do. I bought a new clip, then carefully stripped the wires to the desired bareness; using my wire cutters, I clipped the damaged device out of the remote and stripped those wires to the desired bareness.

Coating them with just enough flux, I put the now hot soldering iron on the solder. I didn’t need much since the wires were small. Putting the solder on the iron rather than the wires offered me more control over the job. I soldered the coordinating wires together.

Finally satisfied that the wires were now held tight, using electrical tape, I separated each pair and taped them to keep them from touching.

Done! Now to test my remote.

It worked. The light is brighter, and fan works as if it were new.

Knowing I saved myself over one hundred dollars made the job not just "well done” but even sweeter since I knew how much a new fan/light would cost.

While I can still dress up and be lady when the situation calls for it, I love the fact that I can still fix things around the house and help my husband when he needs the extra help.

I know my dad is smiling down at me saying, “You go, girl! You’ve made me proud.”

“Thanks, Dad, for encouraging me to be me and teaching me along the way.”

Kind of reminds me of that song, “I Gotta Be Me.”