Line up holes. Install screws. Swing door out. Swing door back in. Revel in a job well done. Repeat as needed. This was hardly the first time I'd attempted such a feat.
Sounds simple, of course. Then again, so did voting in Florida in 2000 (insert witty political quip here). What a fool I was.
Now, I don't consider myself particularly inept when it comes to do-it-yourself projects. I had an active part in planning and building our deck. I frequently help friends and neighbors with their projects, and never have I had to call a professional to rescue me when I went in over my head. I never went in over my head in the first place.
Everything seemed to start out just fine. We found hardware and cabinet hinges we liked, ordered them online and began assembling the cabinets. The wood finish we chose matched everything perfectly. The cabinet knobs attached without a hitch, and we ran ahead of schedule.
Apparently that's not allowed. Or perhaps things went so well at first just to lull us into complacency. Either way, we eventually found ourselves continually stymied in trying to accomplish seemingly simple things, such as installing cabinet hinges.
You might think installing hinges isn't exactly rocket science. It's not, but I'm beginning to think there's something to resistentialism - the semi-serious philosophical school of thought that ascribes anti-human motivation to inanimate objects.
The frustration began when we discovered that no matter how many times we measured and lined things up, we couldn't get the cabinet doors to stay straight. Not just on one cabinet; on any cabinet. With everything in place and properly aligned -- even with the constant use of a level -- not a single cabinet door cooperated. I do not exaggerate when I say that with the possible exception of the last door we installed, it never took fewer than three attempts. The first one took six tries. I don't drink, but as the afternoon wore on, alcoholic escape became more and more appealing. And my wife remains uncertain which caused her more concern: the potential mangling of attractive carpentry or an increasingly frustrated, angry husband who happened to have a hammer within easy reach.
It didn't help that we hadn't considered the awkward angles inherent in small spaces such as the insides of cabinets; some of my tools were too long or cumbersome to be of much use in the narrow broom closet we put together. Nor did we find encouraging my propensity for dropping screws and small pieces with such precision and skill that they inevitably bounced and rolled into inaccessible places. (It's a talent I have. Back in 1991, my first pair of contact lenses was rendered unusable in a most repulsive way when, instead of using as directed, I managed to drop one into a clogged toilet. Then, in an attempt to rescue the lens, I lost a pair of tweezers somewhere in the mess).
In any case, eventually we completed the project to our satisfaction, and continue to enjoy the new cabinets. The hinges have functioned without incident since then, although I think I heard them giggling when I caught my finger in the cabinet door under the sink the other day. Any thoughts of returning them to the cabinet hinges vendor have long since faded.
The question, of course, becomes, how can others avoid the pitfalls? I have several answers, some more useful than others:
1. Full dress rehearsal. I'm not kidding. If, before we started, we'd play-acted the job, we'd have discovered all the little unanticipated things that so frustrated us. At the very least, we'd have made sure to have a telescoping magnet on hand to gather all the fallen hardware, not to mention tools better suited to the space.
2. Call in a professional. A person with immense confidence in his or her handyman abilities might find it tough to swallow pride, but sometimes it pays to nip the ego in the bud. Let someone else go through the frustration of misaligned cabinet hinges. At least they're being paid for it.
3. Spread the project out over time. One of the factors contributing to our frustration was the pressure to get the project done quickly. Not everyone has the luxury of spreading out a renovation project for too long, but if you do it yourself, it's important not to bite off more than you can chew. That holds true as much for scheduling as it does for project scope. Giving yourself more time to focus on small bits of the project can help relieve the pressure that often compromises the quality of one's work.
4. Take frequent breaks. Aside from the emotional and psychological benefit of avoiding mounting frustration, frequent breaks are important for giving your body a rest. Staying in one position for any length of time results in discomfort, so regularly scheduled recesses give both your muscles and your nerves a breather. This is especially helpful if you can't live without checking your Facebook feed at regular intervals. You wouldn't want to let that "Are you a potato?" quiz just sit there for more than fifteen minutes, would you?
5. Keep a clean work environment. For me, this is the toughest lesson to implement. I'm a slob. A lovable slob, but a slob nonetheless. Minimizing clutter in the workspace makes finding pieces easier, and I don't mean only after I've dropped them God-knows-where.
Others can draw their own lessons from my experience. I'm counting my blessings despite the setbacks:
- Not once did I hit my finger (or anything else fragile) with a hammer;
- All domestic disputes were carried out without the aid of toolbox contents;
- My 8-year-old now knows how to handle various kinds of tools and hardware safely and properly;
- We managed not to permanently lock the cat in the lazy susan cabinet no matter how richly she deserved it.
What's our next project? I'm going to implement some of my own advice and go small-scale. My next project is lunch.
