DIY And The Art of Fire Protection – Part 2

I’m loving all of your alarm mishap/relationship comments on Part 1 of this story. Makes me feel less alone in my alarm angst. And I’m definitely going to have to try the tea towel waving technique, something about that appeals to my inner playful child. Towel flinging brings back so many happy memories.

The star of today’s post is not a fire alarm, but a fire extinguisher. The fire extinguisher appearing below to be precise.

Weekends are always DIY dangerous in this neck of the woods. They represent 48 hours in which to carry out amazing feats of DIY daring, innumerable trips to the hardware store and little DIY surprises. Good weekends end without trips to the hospital. All kidding aside, I truly admire the Italian Stallion’s DIY skill and stamina, not to mention his hardware collection. Remember when hardware meant tools, nails and fixy bits rather than computer parts? I googled hardware the other day to try to find some images of hammers, saws and fixy bits but was inundated with pictures of hard drives, chips and wires. I wonder what hardware will mean to my children.

My recent gift to the Italian Stallion

Last weekend was a DIY weekend for the Stallion. There were at least two trips to the hardware store that I know about. I suspect there were more stealthy ones. But who can blame the Italian Stallion? Who wouldn’t want a trip to nirvana where a standing ovation awaits for being the most frequent buyer? I have no doubt that employees seek out the Italian Stallion to ask him where the 2 inch singing Phillips head screw drivers and matching colour coordinated socket head screws are located. Whilst this is a rather feminine take on the world of hardware – colour and song choice would never enter into the male equation – I’m sure you get the gist. Which brings me to the following Curtain Raising thought:

How many different hammers does one guy need?

Answer: More than girls have types of sandals.

Have we the women, finally stumbled on the male equivalent of “I don’t have a thing to wear”? “Honey, I don’t have a thing with which to repair?

I could go on like this for hours, but there’s the small matter of the fire extinguisher.

So the weekend is drawing to a close, Sunday evening and dinner is cooking and I’m at the sink, washing up. Thankfully, the smoke alarm is silent and the Italian Stallion still has all his fingers. It’s been a good couple of days. Arms elbow deep in suds, the Italian Stallion rocks up and the following conversation ensues:

IS: “I’ve been to the hardware store today.”

CR: “Yeah? Wesfarmers share price will surly spike tomorrow.”

IS: “I bought a fire extinguisher for the workshop.”

CR: “Great”

IS: “I bought two, actually. One for the kitchen as well.”

CR: “One for the kitchen?”

IS: “Sure, where would you like me to install it?”

CR: [This is totally left field and I fumble the ball] “I dunno.”

IS: “How about here?” – IS takes the fire extinguisher and holds it next to the most prominent position in the kitchen.

CR: [Now totally drop the ball] “Really? It’s so industrial looking.”

The sound of a burst bubble fills the air. In my defence though, I felt totally ambushed. I like surprises as much as the next person, but this was totally unexpected and besides I had my hands in the sink! Further, the vision for my normal residential kitchen does not include industrial fittings.  This is only the first step and I fear one that could set a dangerous precedent. What happens if the Stallion suddenly rocks up with 100 metres of industrial grey carpet or industrial shelving? I feel I am at the flood gates of hardware hell, it is starting to invade my living space.

No doubt, the extinguisher will go up…somewhere … eventually. And now I’m on guard for anything resembling industrial/office wear. A Blackberry is one thing. A fire extinguisher is quite another. Even with my lack of interior decorating talent I know that “Office – circa early 90’s” is not the way to go.

In the meantime, the only real mode of fire protection I want to embrace is this:

Has any person you live with ever brought home anything that was totally unexpected?