MY Redneck's Inventions

They say that, "Necessity is the mother of invention." Or at least I think that's how it goes. And boy oh boy, have we met 'necessity' up close and personal these last few months! We have been brow beaten by her over and over. I say 'her', because only a female can poke, prod, tease and nag like necessity does.

I'm talking about the necessity to create meals out of potatoes, or pasta, whatever canned vegetable is left and season it from the crumbs scraped from the bottom of the spice cupboard.

I'm talking about the necessity to walk away from our credit cards, redefine "needs" and how that differs from "wants."

The necessity to use what we have and not let anything that costs money go to waste. Conserve energy, water and food to meet budgets set every week. We will never be able to keep up with the Jones's, so what's the point in trying? I hear they're not great company anyway.

The necessity to work as much as possible in order to dig ourselves out of a huge hole we've dug by living above and beyond our means, thinking there would be no consequences. (Can I get an amen?!)

We no longer buy new, we buy used, or more often the case...we create. I consider us to be the Rednecks of the North. Yeah, I've seen all those websites that poke fun at "Redneck Inventions" and we've never reached the lengths as say, oh, these guys:

Redneck Hot Tub

But really? Hasn't the economy and high gas prices forced most of us to make do with what we have in one way or another? To come to grips with the idea that the moment we throw it away, we might need it and can't afford to buy a replacement? It's just that a lot of us have to make do with a lot less. I'm pretty sure it was a Redneck who came up with this idea first so he wouldn't have to leave his lawn chair:

In addition to this, he probably invented the catheder as well...

I'm guessing the first one involved a duct tape, a camouflage baseball hat, 2 cans of Schlitz, and a bunch of straws from McDonald's strewn together. (You can see it, right?)

Anyway, back to me (because it's all about me), or rather my husband. He is THE KING! The difference with his inventions is, they're actually quite useful. He feigns incompetence when it came to changing diapers, cooking anything besides cheeseburgers, and apparently changing a roll of toilet paper. But I began to see through his ploy when he invented the "refrigerator knot." Besides the possibility of my children hanging themselves from the frig door, this one had a lot of potential...it just needed some tweaks and a good marketing campaign. We call them "McGyver's" because, seriously, under all of that Hollywood make-up, wasn't he just a glorified Redneck?

I always thought he was hot...

Wanna take a look at what we got going on? Let's start with this:

A little worse for wear, but we cut the sharp ends off.

This was built several years back out of scrap wood and chicken wire. It fits perfectly between the edges of the garage door rails. Since the garage opens to the backyard, this allows us to have the garage door open AND be able to let the dogs roam freely. It has saved us hundreds in doggy jail bail-out money.

Problem: we lost our downspout in a windstorm. The large hole in our soffit caused the rain to pound on one section of our patio, thus washing out the sand between the pavers. The solution?

That is the top to our outdoor fire pit (whose handle corroded away and left a hole) up-side-down on a bucket, thus collecting any stray streams, and directing it to a bucket...also with a hole drilled into it, and PVC pipe and our salvaged piece of drainpipe leading the water away so our pavers don't take such a beating. The downside to this one, sounded like a Reggae band on steel drums whenever it rained.

Next, we had a light fixture located directly above the stairs leading to our basement. Problem: Who could reach the 12-inch string dangling above the middle of the stairs? Reaching it was a matter of luck and a death wish...and that was for the adults. Our children wouldn't go downstairs to their playroom without having a lighted way.

Solution:

Much better. We can now turn the light off and on without having the balance of an aerialist AND without leaving the safety of the first floor.

Moving on. The kid's bouncy house did not survive the rambunctious tribe of 7-year-olds at my son's last birthday party even after several attempts to salvage it with strips upon strips of gorilla tape (sorry mom). Besides, after all of the air-filled-toy-lift-offs on the news, maybe it wasn't safe. However, after creating a yellow spot from laying on our lawn for too long, hubby devised a way to recycle. Problem: No escape from heat and sun on a 2-second sunburn-rated body while fishing in the boat.

Solution:

PVC pipe (eat your heart out, Blue Man Group), string, screws, cut up bouncy-house canvas, and some ingenuity, and wa-lah! A fold out canvas that provides shade and comfort while fishing, yet folds up easily and doesn't reduce visibility while driving. (He also concocted some sort of PVC pipe set up that allows him to steer while trolling and controlling the motor from the BACK of the boat. Too complicated for me to picture here.)

If you have a career as a handyman, you need to utilize every available space for transporting your tools. Problem: Where to store brooms so they don't poke you in the eye from the back seat every time you make a right turn.

Solution: Add a wooden bumper, drill holes, insert brooms or shovels...'nuf said.

View from below.

Hell, his whole trailer is a McGyver-ism:

 

This is my life. I embrace it. I consider my husband quite a talented man. (Shameless plug - find Help Around The House on facebook, and you can see pictures and updates of his craft.)

So, when we have a need, we find a way. I kid my husband a LOT about his "inventions," but deep down, I hope that my kids inherit his ability to combine necessity, creativity and materials at hand to form a solution...that takes talent...especially if you need to defuse a bomb with a paperclip, Rolex watch, and duct tape.

Clever Is As Clever Does

Our family has flirted with the idea of changing from cable to dish for about a year now. It's cheaper than cable and has more channels, but we were worried about reception and had heard the rumored horror stories here and there. Monday, the solution found us in the form of a blue-shirted sales kid named Doug. We had it installed the next day. IT TOOK 5 HOURS! If this is any indication of what we're in for, I'm afraid. Very afraid.

The up side, besides having, oh, about 45 more channels with nothing on, is a channel called, "Boomerang." I'm sure I'm late in discovering this one. But, from what I've seen so far, it is the American Movie Channel, of kids programming. It runs the cartoons that I grew up watching, including, but not limited to:

Tom and Jerry:

Dastardly and Muttley:

And one of my all time favorites, Pink Panther (with shorts of Inspector Clouseau and Sergeant Deux-Deux (pronounced "Do-Do")):

Kamrin is absolutely fascinated by Pink Panther. Not so much the cartoon, but the theme song...but not the "dead - ant" one, this one:

He turns it way up and dances to it. This is him in his PJs, watching. He insisted on wearing the heavy winter "feetie" jammies even though it is nearly the end of June. It always ends the same way, in the middle of the night, he'll get hot, strip them off, realize his room is dark and I wake up to a naked 4-year-old's butt in my face. Nice.

The intensity!

The reason I am so thrilled that they are watching these cartoons is not because I'm transported back to care-free memories of my own childhood, really. I've just forgotten how a person could watch an animated feature that doesn't drown itself in burp, fart and snot jokes, along with the gag inducing visuals or kids with overly large eyes and names I can't pronounce. These rely only on mind numbing, non-life-threatening violence of falling out of windows and bouncing high into outer space, hitting your hand with a hammer only to have it pulse to three times its normal size, having the fur ripped off of a tail, only to appear magically intact in the next frames and bombs that explode, but leave all limbs whole, no blood and only a blackened face. Aaah the good ol' days. (sigh)

Anywho, one downside to this channel is that Kamrin now looks for every excuse to stay up later than his bedtime to watch it. Since he's exhausted the...need for a drink or something to eat, having to pee, being scared, wanting someone to sleep with, looking for a specific stuffed animal...excuses, he needs to come up with new ones. For example; he created a drawing which he attached to his door. On it were stick figures representing Dad, Kaiden and myself. They were each circled with an 'X' through them. When questioned about the meaning of this sign, Kamrin replied that it meant these were the people who were NOT allowed into his room. "Aha. I see. Well, goodnight then," I say to him from his doorway, "I'll see you in the morning." I walk away. Join my husband in the living room to explore what OTHER channels may be available for us...like Discovery Channel or National Geographic Wild (come on people! What did you think I was talking about?) Not four minutes into channel surfing, a hear the soft pad, pad, padding of jammie-clad feet. As my son notices me looking his direction, he throws up his hands in frustration and proclaims, "GREAT! Now I can't go into my room!!"

Blink. Blink.

(He's quite the actor as he truly seems appalled by recent circumstances.) He takes me by the hand and shows me that his drawing on the door now includes a rendition of himself...surrounded by a circle with an 'X' through it.

Manipulated a bit so it was more visible since he only had a yellow colored-pencil to draw with.

I immediately burst out laughing. Couldn't contain that one if I had tried. He earned another 10 minutes of "up" time due to creativity. Points for this one.

All The World's a Stage

Summer is here, (although someone should've made sure that Mother Nature got the memo, because I'm pretty sure she was missed on the group email), which means baseball season for my oldest.

I LOVE watching him play. Entertainment abounds in watching all the 7-year-olds who have learned to hit and catch, but have no concept of the logistics of baseball. There are pile-ups on third base as the runner there has forgotten to run, and now the runners from first and second are all standing on the base with him, waiting for their turn to round the corner towards home. There are the ostrich-like stances as the ball rolls between their legs, the chin-up running form as they sprint to first base, but cannot see where they're going because the helmets are too big, and the constant throwing of the ball to first base...no matter where the runners are. And finally, there is the never-ending game of tag at home base where the runner will do ANYTHING to avoid being tagged, even if it means running out the side gate to the bench.

As a side note, I played softball for many many years, and it's hard for me not to be THAT mom shouting, "Run, run!" or "Throw it to third!" Shawn now sits on the opposite side of the bleachers from me.

My problem is this: if we get to watch Kaiden play as a family, there is no avoiding bringing my youngest along.

Kaiden frets when, from 100 yards away, he sees no one at the field with the same colored shirt on.  He asks me at least three times if I'm SURE that this is the right field (there are three). He hangs back tentatively, watching the other players warm up, until the coach invites him inside the gates. He so gets his antisocial behavior from my husband's genes! But once he's out there, he's not as self-conscious and does pretty well, it's just getting past that initial hump.

Not the case with Kamrin. Before Shawn and I have even had a chance to pick our place on the butt-wrenching metal benches behind home plate, Kamrin has marched up and down the the bleachers twice, no doubt scouting his audience. He has managed to dupe someone into giving him a handful of sunflower seeds, picked up a large stick, and is now coo-ing to a baby in a stroller.

As the game begins, he is warming up to his viewers, "What's your name?" he asks each. and. every. person. The first inning is 2 batters in and he draws out his stick. He taps one person on the knee, "This is your circle, (he draws one in the dirt front center of the bleachers), and this is yours...(tap the next person)." I'm waiting for him to produce a top hat and a rabbit. This continues for about 4 people. "Kamrin, come here!" I say.

But his act is just gearing up. "You wanna hear a joke?" Oh boy. "How does the tree get on top of the car? (pause) With a ladder." Polite smiles and even some giggles.

He has now learned that the little girl, who is also there and politely sitting on the lowest bench with her mother, is named Lilly. He has coerced a ball from one of the coaches and is trying to entice her to play. He offers her some sun-seeds that he has pilfered from one of the spectators.

"Kamrin, why don't you go play in the park?" There is a playground close by, and I have forced him to wear a bright red visor for this very reason...I can watch the game in peace, but yet still locate that hat from a safe distance. Kaiden bats, makes it to first and as the next batter is up, I peek at the park and locate the hat. Simple.

This would be the hat.

I hear the twinkly, tinny music. It's the ice-cream truck. (Someone as cornered their target market beautifully!). Not 3 seconds later, Kam is front and center again, "Mom! I want ice cream! Mom? Mom? Gimme your purse! Where's your money?" Several laughs from his "audience" once again. I have now missed Kaiden crossing home plate.

By the end of the game, I realized that Kam's ploy for recognition was a success. EVERYONE knew his name...("Kamrin, stop bothering her." "Kamrin, put down the stick before you hurt someone." "Kamrin, get that rock out of your mouth.) They ALL knew who he was....and that he belonged to me. As we left, he shouted, "Bye Lilly, my love you!" and other parents patted him on the head.

Tonight, just Kaiden and I went to baseball.

When the game was about to start, and I had situated myself on the far end of the bleacher, a mom leaned over and said, "Where's Kamrin?"

Mission complete Kamrin, mission complete.