Weekend 3-way: Do it yourself

I'm not handy. I have no problem admitting this. I'm good at lots of things, but household repairs simply do not make this list.

Consequently, my home tends to have little "projects" in need of doing. My husband is pretty handy -- I mean, he fixed the front door latch with a baby pacifier, which is nothing if not resourceful. But when you're not willing able to fix things yourself, you can only ask someone else to do it a time or two. Asking more than that is downright obnoxious.

Which means that there are things in my house that drive me crazy, because I don't do and have stopped asking.

I'm betting that you have an item (or two) like this of your very own.

So what is it that drives you most crazy? Is it a broken shelf, a cracked driveway, a leaky sink, your neighbor's yapping dog?

Beth:
Every time I walk into the master bath, it's hard not to notice this:

I always feel like a member of the Clampett family when I see it. There's just something so trailer park about it, isn't there?

Jacquie:
This corner:

That counter top had a teutonic shift nearly from the moment it was installed, and all sort of crap gets stuck in there. Also, the grout where the counter meets the backsplash is cracked. I look at it every morning and grumble.

Ellie:
Well, I'll tell you one thing that doesn't drive me crazy.

I got home from work yesterday (I know, I know, "work" is a relative term for my job) and immediately poured myself a giant lovely icey glass of charrrrbonay and said to Mistah, "I only wish I put pretzels on your shopping list; I'm craving rods." Mistah said, "Did you look on the shelf?" I hadn't. Then I did. And this is what I saw:

It was full when Mistah brought it home. We did have our friends Dorothy and Jim over for a couple of hours, but I did my square fair share. And am all the better for it.

What bugs me about my house though? What's the anti-giant-bucket-of-pretzels for me??? Well, what bugs me the most I can't show you. It's too embarrassing. Two years after moving into this house we're still without dressers or bureaus or armoires or even hooks in our clothes room. It's a disaster. I have eyes only for my pile of clothes when I walk in and hope the rest goes away. La la la la la.

But what I can show you, and what I can tackle, is this:

Spring project, baby. I smell a blog post.