I have been told that my partner, through love, has inherited a situation that includes living with the world's worst renovator, that person of course being me. Why do I say that you may ask? Perhaps two examples of my experiences in the ventures of renovation, which were threatened to be included within divorce papers, might provide the answer to that question.

Example one

When I was a few decades younger than I am now, the trend was for wooden tongue and grove ceilings so we decided that this would look nice in our entrance hall. I duly measured the area and wandered down to the local DIY superstore to get the required materials.

To secure the framework to the ceiling, I drilled holes into the joists and then put in rawl-plugs, then screwed the framework onto the ceiling. The next step was to nail the wood to the framework and finished off with the coving. It looked wonderful. At least until my ex-mother in law, walked through the front door and shut it sharply. The whole ceiling, shuddered and collapsed onto her head. It had not occurred to me that the type of plugs I used would just slip out of the holes because of the pressure.

Example two

There was also an occasion when we needed a cupboard in the bathroom. Apparently mistake number one was tackling this job whilst my then wife was taking a bath. During my drilling, I could hear little, but the final banshee wail caused me to look round to find a brick-dust human shape glaring at me from the bath. I apologised and continued to put the structure on the wall. However, accidentally I dropped the hammer. Unfortunately this hit an exposed water pipe, resulting in a fountain of cold water. Another growl came from the freezing, but now clean bath occupant

The divorce was granted on the grounds of my being a danger to others. I have subsequently rebuilt my life and since joining with my new partner there has only been one adverse DIY experience. This occurred when I decided to saw through a piece of wood whilst it was resting on my leg. Sixteen stitches and a lot of blood later, my present partner bought a new padlock for the tools store and refuses to this day to give me the combination.

I leave you to consider whether you would want to welcome me into your home as a renovator. My rates are cheap, food and lodging, but the quality of my work? Well that is another story. Perhaps you will spare a thought for my long-suffering partner who has no choice in these matters.

Learn more about this author, Paul Lines.
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