Worth every nut and bolt

KIWI ingenuity runs deep in the Kiwi gene pool. Well, in most men it does.

There are countless tales of the so-called Kiwi can-do attitude and No8 wire mentality that sees New Zealand blokes able to conjure up the most amazing contraptions, build great structures or fix almost any problem with McGyver-like finesse and few resources.

Sadly, I am not one of those people. At a most basic level, I can cope; building a basic raised garden I can handle - as long as you don't want straight sides. But I am not my father, who could build anything, weld, fix engines, strip and rebuild diffs, almost anything. I wish I had inherited some of his skills.

But the world needs people with a mix of abilities and my practical limitations haven't stopped me giving a few projects a go. Last weekend I broke out the tools to build two kitset shelving units, although I did have to sneak a peek at the instructions. It's not the kind of thing you'd expect from a true-blue Kiwi guy - akin to cheating - but I figured it was easier to check before ruining the units.

But the crowning achievement of the weekend's endeavours was making the new wheelbarrow. Maybe it was down to my helpers, aged 4 and 7. When I say helpers, they were trying but did little for my stress levels.

It all started out okay. A quick check of the parts list confirmed everything was there. I glanced at the diagram and it all looked pretty simple.

Maybe I should have read the actual instructions first. Having pulled apart the partly completed body of the wheelbarrow to include the brace I had omitted - the third time I had done a partial construction only to realise something was missing - I came to a realisation: There was a fundamental flaw in the instructions and equipment list. Nowhere did it mention that I would need four arms to complete the task.

There I was, struggling to hold up the plastic tray with one hand and insert a bolt with the other, while needing to slot at least two or three other elements on to the bolt before fastening it with the nut.

Luckily my helpers were to the fore. Well one of them. Having tried to sabotage me by bolting the wrong bits together, Master Four got bored and ventured inside to wreak havoc there. Meanwhile, our 7-year-old turned in a star performance as chief nut-turner and holder of bolts and other bits, much like the role I assumed when helping my father out all those years ago.

Finally it was done. It looked like a wheelbarrow, worked like a wheelbarrow and, even better, there were no spare parts.

There was a sense of satisfaction in a job completed but the best bit was the time spent with the boys, especially our eldest son, who stuck it out till the end.

The searching looks as he sought direction and pleasure he gained from doing well, helping me, and the praise that followed his conscientious efforts were worth far more than the money saved and time cost.

Feedback: editor@wanganuichronicle.co.nz