More than a HARDHAT

Hey kinfolk.

Being a handywoman means wearing a lot of hats. Some days I’m a plumber, an electrician, a woodworker, a landscaper, a drywall specialist, an appliance tech, a cleaner, even a garbage woman. I don’t even realize how much I do sometimes, and how large the breadth of this work is. Sure, I have preferences. If I had it my way, I’d make a living building furniture all day long. There’s something deeply satisfying about interpreting assembly instructions—it feels like a quiet conversation with the technical writer who crafted the manual. Alas, I am more than a furniture assembler. I am a problem-solver, a thinker, a creative, a planner, an organizer, even a cheerleader. Here’s a bit about my day-to-day, in a diversity of hats.

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A Hat for Every Job, A Bucket of Tools for Every Hat

Generally, I am a regular ole tool woman. I use the tools I need for the day I have planned. Actually, I bring the tools I think I need for the day. There’s always a wrench in the plans (I don’t know how it keeps jumping out of the tool bag). How could I predict the variables from A-Z? The atypical workspace, battery failure, client demands, damaged goods, missing hardware, rusted parts, a 1950s sink vanity—all wrenches I can try to tighten the nut with, but sometimes the wrench is not adjustable. But here’s the thing: a handywoman learns to adapt. When the wrench doesn’t fit, I switch tools—and mindsets.

Seriously though. In one day, I can go from repairing patio screens to drywall to shower tiles. Three wildly different hats. I need my outdoor hat for patios- not to mention spline, roller, clips, utility knife, and the screen itself. I prefer my safety glasses for drywall repair since it gets dusty- along with spackle, fiberglass tape, 1 inch drywall screws, a serrated knife, a putty knife, and the drywall sheets themselves. Plus, I’ll need a shower cap for tiling in the event the shower spontaneously erupts! Let alone mortar, a bucket, drill mixer, rags, sponges, spacers, copious amounts of 4×4 tiles. It’s important to dress the part for a job. I don’t want to be baking in the sun without SPF or getting my favorite shorts caked with mortar. So, I pack my changes of clothes into and stay organized using 5-gallon buckets. They’re great for tossing and sorting specialty tools, especially with what they call a “pocket jockey” tool pouch insert. What a day. 

The Day of Too Many Hats

It all started with an 8 a.m. drywall repair appointment. Simple enough, right? Except when I got there, the client casually mentioned they had “a few extra spots” they wanted me to patch. Turns out, the “few spots” were an entire wall riddled with holes—from a dartboard mishap, of all things. So, I shifted gears, recalculated my materials, carted off the hardware store, raced back and dove in. I used the multitool to cut out squares of drywall and screwed some fancy 2x4s in the wall to back them up. 

Mid-patching, the phone buzzed with an urgent text: my noon appointment had a “tiny plumbing emergency.” Tiny? I wrapped up the wall as fast as I could, tossed my tools into a bucket (not neatly, mind you), and sped over.

When I arrived, I was greeted by a river flowing out from under the kitchen sink. Their garbage disposal had gone rogue, deciding it no longer wanted to grind food—it wanted to launch it instead. Just kidding, FYI when a disposal is clogged it has an automatic shut off button at the bottom of it that can be reset when the blockage is removed. Anyway, I braced myself, peered under the sink, and was immediately hit with the smell of wet lettuce, old pasta, and something that may or may not have been chicken. The homeowner sheepishly admitted they’d tried to grind coffee grounds, eggshells, and grease earlier in the week—disposal kryptonite.

Armed with gloves, a bucket, and sheer determination, I disassembled the disposal, fishing out a horrifying combination of soggy coffee grounds and spaghetti sludge. (WHY IS IT ALWAYS SPAGHETTI?) I cleaned the pipes, replaced the unit, and gave the homeowner a quick “What Not to Grind 101” lesson followed up with “maintain a clean disposal with ice ice baby” song and dance. I went on my way. 

Finally, I made it to my last stop—a patio screen repair. By this point, I was sweaty, tired, and smelling faintly of sink sludge, but I was determined to finish before sundown. I pulled out the spline roller, ready to replace the screen. But as I worked, the screen clips clamped on extra tight and the screen itself was pretty thin and weak. This caused a major problem- screen rippage. I was tired and shaky, leaned into the screen for 2 seconds and was right back where I started- staring at a screen with a rip in it. It’s so demoralizing when the screen breaks. Lucky for me, I was able to pivot and tried a different technique. Someone on reddit mentioned that using small bits of the old spline in place of clips was more effective and less abrasive. It worked for me, screen’s repaired. The modification was more reliable, I learned a better course of action for the future. Plus, I got to watch the sunset during the second round of splining. I made my sundown deadline (no one told me I had a deadline, so naturally i gave one to myself, per usual).

By the time I got home, I was too tired to care about the sink sludge under my nails or the mortar dust in my hair. I plopped into the shower fully dressed and let the water do its thing. As chaotic as it was, the day wasn’t a loss. Three different hats, three completed jobs, and one reminder: being a handywoman is never boring.

Routing Amidst Variable Chaos

Still, I like to center myself at the beginning and end of the workday. It’s easy to get lost in the sea of client needs. My grounding rituals keep me sane.

The beginning: what grounds me is my daily ritual sipping a coffee on the way to my first stop, and drinking fresh spring water in between jobs. Pro tip: CAR SNACKS. Between stops, I hydrate with spring water and keep snacks handy—Slim Jim’s are a glove compartment essential. Something about chewing the rod of meat is satisfying, calming. Plus, you can pick up a slim jim just about anywhere, so if you lower your standards for meat products, they’re decent protein.

The end: my nighttime reset is all about cleansing my body from head to toe. Soap up in a pippin’ hot shower, scrub the feet, drip out onto the floor, towel dry to fluff the hair, moisturize the face, lotion the hands, and rinse the teeth in saltwater. Most of the chemicals I encounter strip away from skin with soap and water, except I neglect my fingers and fail to scrub them. My nails often give me away as a handywoman, but they’re my badge of honor.

Retro vanity, modern chaos

Let’s take a closer look at the case of the 1950s vanity. The client bought a nice, updated fixture—a white cabinet with drawers on one side, an extra-long faucet, and a marble sink top. I personally thought it was beautiful and fit her aesthetic better than the old one.

Removing the old vanity was easy: disconnect plumbing, cut around the molding with a utility knife, and pry it away. But when we set the new vanity in place, issues popped up like stubborn nuts and bolts:

1. The vanity was narrower than the old one. We had to decide: center it and leave side gaps or push it flush against the wall? She opted for flush, which meant the future tile work was more straightforward.
2. The plumbing was in the way of the drawers. So, we swapped the drawers to the opposite side. I noticed the vanity innards were set up to be interchangeable. 
3. The faucet pipes didn’t align with the p-trap. My solution? An accordion pipe for flexibility. The malleable pvc could spiral across in a bendy way. 

But here’s where things got dicey: I didn’t have the right hole saw on hand. I had to make two holes by hand—janky, but effective. (Never forget the #1 rule of handiwork: improvise!)

At the end of it all, the client loved how seamless it looked. I left amazed by her wallpaper choice—a bold floral that brought the whole room to life.

In no particular order, these are all the tools I remember using during the vanity project: utility knife, screwdriver, drill, 3 drill bits, spacers, caulking, gloves, a water bucket, rags, an adjustable wrench, washers, a plumbers wrench, tape, and putty, multitool saw, hammer, shims, blue tape, Windex, and a stud finder.

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Dreams I remember after work is done

It’s so many moving parts, there’s days I wish I only wore one hat. I hear my mind chatter: “Hey girl, maybe it’s time for me to go be an Italian plumber—it worked out for Mario and Luigi.” Alas, I’d probably get bored in a specialty.

I remember my dreams—I want to remodel a home in Italy, build tiny home communities, and design the interiors of custom sailboats. Being a skilled generalist makes these dreams possible. Each hat I wear, each tool I pick up, adds another notch to my skill belt.

In the end, I’m not just a Jill of all trades—I’m a forewoman of versatility.

Till we meet again, may your projects be smooth and may your tools be sharp.

What do you think? Would you embrace the chaos of many hats or stick with one specialty? Let me know in the comments! And if you’re ready to tackle a project of your own, grab a Slim Jim and let’s get to work.