Recent studies have shown more single women own homes than ever before. Norma Vally, host of “Toolbelt Diva” on Discovery Home Channel, visited “Weekend Today” to share home improvement tips from her new book, “Chix Can Fix.” Here's an excerpt:
IntroductionThanksgiving Day, 1974. I was eight years old and we had just finished dinner. My entire family was there — my grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, parents, older brother, and me. What seemed like 142 people had already made it through three heaping courses of antipasto, soup, and pasta before we even got to the turkey! Three more courses followed that, topped off by a selection of Italian pastries that made the two-hour wait at the neighborhood bakery worth every minute. And finally pumpkin pie, to show just how Americanized my big Italian family had become.
Holidays had always involved mountains of food, but only now that I was old enough to clean did I realize that tons of food meant tons of dishes. And, as a girl, I was expected to help wash them after we were done eating, while the men — including my older brother — relaxed in the living room in front of the TV.
I grabbed the empty wineglasses off the table and carried them into the kitchen, where my mom and aunts were scurrying around, Brillo pads flying, stacking Tupperware with enough leftovers to last until Valentine’s Day (and no one was getting out of the house without a bag of leftovers). I set the glasses down and was going back for more when, through the open doorway of the living room, I noticed my brother, Roberto, lying on the carpet watching TV and putting together a model car. I looked from him over to where my dad and uncles had passed out while watching the game, snoring so loudly they sounded like a symphony of wood chippers (Lord, could they snore with those Italian schnozzes of theirs). The women are working, the men are snoring.
Why does my brother get to watch TV while I have to dry the dishes? I had always known on some level that Roberto and I were treated differently because he was a boy and I was a girl. While I had never thought it was fair, what I realized then and what troubled me most was that the differences between us were more than just that he got to laze around while I had to work. As he sat there concentrating on his model car, I had what to my eight-year-old mind was an epiphany — there were things my brother knew how to do that I didn’t simply because he was a boy.
My aunt Rose-Marie called to me from the kitchen to finish clearing the table, so I did as I was told, but while I was cleaning, my mind kept working around this epiphany. I couldn’t understand it: My brother and I grew up in the same house, with the same parents, went to the same schools, yet he had access to knowledge and skills that I didn’t.
How did he know how to fix a radio or take apart the lawn mower and put it back together? When did he learn to replace his bicycle chain every time it fell off? Were all the boys gathering in some no-girls-allowed clubhouse where they were coached by male elders on how to be mechanically inclined? Somehow my brother had learned, by the age of thirteen, to mount a twenty-foot CB antenna to our roof and ground it with a wire that he ran down the side of the house and secured into the dirt with a fork. Sure, when my parents pulled up to the house and found what looked like the top of the Empire State Building sitting on top of their house, they were royally pissed. But at the same time, I knew that my dad was secretly proud of my brother’s ingenuity and courage for actually getting that thing up there.
I might not have understood why boys just seemed to know how to do things that girls didn’t (and I still haven’t quite figured it out), but I did know that anything my big brother could do, I could do, too. Little by little, I began to acquire those skills, and I eventually caught up. I didn’t become a fix-it diva overnight. In the past thirty years, I’ve learned a lot about a broad range of construction and home-improvement skills. I’ve made plenty of mistakes along the way, but I never stopped trying, and I never gave up on the notion that I was fully capable of fixing anything I put my mind to, regardless of my gender. When my dad and uncles realized that I wanted to learn the same things they were teaching my brother and male cousins, they were surprised, but more than happy to teach me. And by working with them, I learned that gender doesn’t matter — education does. I didn’t realize it at the time, but on that Thanksgiving Day, almost thirty years ago, the idea for Chix Can Fix was born.
Chix Can Fix is your education. It’s not going to take you thirty years to learn how to fix up your home, and you don’t need to make the mistakes I did, because you have this book to guide you. I’m not ashamed to admit that I’ve fallen off a ladder or two, but you don’t need to worry about falling — this book will keep you steady and confident.
My friend Susanna says, “If only I could figure out how to wire my surround sound, I wouldn’t need a man around at all.” To this brilliant, funny, talented, and successful woman, wiring her surround sound is the great enigma of life. Who wants to be waiting around for that guy who’s been promising to hang those shelves you bought six months ago that are still sitting at the bottom of your closet collecting dust? I mean, we love men and all, but do we really want to put our lives on hold for that guy? Is this what is meant by being a lady-in-waiting? Well, those days are over. If a woman wants surround sound, she can have it. I’ll show her how to do it herself. And I’ll show you, too.
So come on. Pick up your screwdriver, put away your doubt, and let's get started.
Before You Begin: Answering the What-Ifs
What if you’re in the middle of a project and it all goes south? As they say, sh*t happens, and anyone who has ever tackled a home-improvement project knows this to be true. I don’t care if you’re a twenty-five-year construction veteran or a brand-new do-it-yourselfer. Parts don’t fit, pipes break, measurements don’t add up — you can’t anticipate everything! Just know that when a problem arises, it isn’t your fault, accept that it’s the nature of the beast, and remember — the absolute best possible tool you can arm yourself with to handle any crisis is the right attitude.
I’ve developed a list of do’s and don’ts — not necessarily in that order — so if you ever get caught up the ol’ creek, you’ll have a paddle.
DON’Ts
- Don’t, out of frustration, chuck a freakin’ tool at the wall — you’ll only be setting yourself up for a wall repair.
- Don’t run crying, “You were right! I can’t do it myself!” to your father/boyfriend/husband. (That said, don’t tell your father/boyfriend/husband he’s the last person in the world —you’d ever call on for help — just in case you end up needing a little backup.)
- Don’t make a mountain out of a molehill. Come on, you’re not performing open-heart surgery; you’re replacing a washer.
- Don’t panic. Dial 911 only if there’s a real emergency — and an impenetrable toilet clog —doesn’t constitute a real emergency. If you’ve run into a problem you can’t solve, calm down and call in a professional.
DO’s
- Do familiarize yourself with all the tools, parts, and safety measures before getting started on your project.
- Do be patient with yourself. If Rome wasn’t built in a day, your shelves may not be either.
- Do work methodically and neatly, so if you get stuck, you’ll know exactly where you are in the project.
- Do step back and take a break if you hit a rough spot — sometimes that’s all it takes to come up with a fresh solution.
- Do have the name and number of a professional handy in case you get in over your head.
- Do set yourself up for success by being informed about your project, equipped with the right tools, and prepared with a realistic budget and time frame for its completion.
Excerpted from “Chix Can Fix: 100 Home-Improvement Projects and True Tales from the Diva of Do-It-Yourself ” by Norma Vally. Copyright © 2006, Norma Vally. All rights reserved. Published by Studio. No part of this excerpt can be used without permission of the publisher.