Over the course of the summer, my house, which has been my solace and my refuge for these 4.5 years, betrayed me.

It suddenly needed some attention. Everywhere I looked I saw the to-dos.

The grass in the front yard didn’t green up in the spring, and in spite of a $200 water bill, has never come back.

The trees out there were treacherously close to the roof and dangled precariously over the street.

And the trim on the front of the house had weathered many a storm, and looked it.

Inside, my failed attempt to cut a hole from the Media Room to the driveway (I’ll explain another time. Let’s just say I call it Cindy’s Folly) had been patched, but now the wall needed painting.

The curtain rod in the guest room had been hung using Velcro strips (no, I don’t know why) and now listed drunkenly. The curtains hanging there were too long, but at least they hid the parade of dead ants that had marched across the sill last spring.

The shower rod in the guest bath refused to stay on the wall, in spite of every adhesive device known to woman.

Downstairs every window needed washing.

No respectable Senior Influencer could live that way. Something needed to be done. And quickly, but where to start?

Then a light bulb came on–or went off, as it were.

The ceiling lights in the living/den/kitchen are of a certain ilk and were supposed to last forever (per Scott and the package they came in), however, they had been going out one by one. And I had been replacing them with whatever similar bulb-ish thing I could find in the pantry, resulting in a mash up of colors and patterns all over the very large room.

How many widows does it take to change a light bulb?

Only one, since I became a member of the Worst Club Ever, I must do these things for myself.

But it does take a trip to Home Depot.

I bought the correct bulbs in bulk, went home, and proceeded to climb up and down from a dining room chair six times until they were all shining brightly in unison.

I felt very self-satisfied.

Then I got started on the rest of my tumbling down house.

I painted the wall in the Media Room It involved ladders and my brother, Ted.

I got the curtains in the guestroom cleaned and hemmed, called an exterminator, cleaned up the ant carcasses, detached and reattached the rod holders. using actual screws, then rehung the curtains. This also required tools, a ladder, and, ultimately, my brother.

Turns out that I have the hand/arm strength of a kitten.

I also washed all the windows downstairs. No ladders, so that was a plus.

I also had brother Ted power-wash the front of the house for me. I highly recommend it. The paint looks brand new.

I also had to get help, this time from Beau’s dad Richard to advise and ultimately muscle up the shower curtain rod. Because he has massive upper body strength (see my note about kitten arms above) he was able to put it up without adhesives, the way God intended.

All this to say that I have become pretty handy around my house, dare I say RESOURCEFUL! But I’m also lucky that I have people who are generous with their time and talents who can help me when it involves tools or strength I lack.

Also, and this is important . . . I don’t mind asking for help.

When the shower curtain problem arose (or fell down, as it were,) I sent up the bat signal to my kids, all of whom responded, but that is how Richard showed up. They know I will do as much as I can by myself, but that certain things are out of my sphere of expertise or ability.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t take for granted that I have people to call. You may not have a ready stable of children, in-laws, and brothers. Which is why we sometimes have to step out of our comfort zone, turn to neighbors, ask for help on Next Door, or get recommendations from friends. Just don’t neglect your home or take unnecessary risks because you’re afraid (or too proud) to ask for help.

The grass in the front yard will have to wait until spring, but now I need to get the trees trimmed. Ted really wants to do it because. . . chainsaws. But, no, I am calling in the pros for this one.

They have really big ladders. And insurance.