Sometimes in my sheltered life, I am passed by when it comes to knowledge about certain customs and abbreviations that are now commonly used by anyone over the age of six.
It took me years to figure out what BOGO meant in the retail outlet or in one of those catalogues that come unsolicited. In my aging mind I thought it might be a new brand name for jeans or underwear but couldn’t remember ever hearing about the company that might be in competition with Levi’s or Stanfield.
So I went on in the dark until I heard about a local store having a BOGO sale and the copy writer obligingly provided the definition: “Buy One, Get One” for those of us who don’t get out much anymore. Once I knew the meaning, the combination of letters made perfect sense and I stopped checking clothing labels.
It didn’t take me nearly as many months to figure out the meaning of DIY. At first I considered it to mean “Don’t Injure Yourself.” That seemed appropriate when it showed up in connection with discussions about home improvement projects or crafts involving glue guns and electric staplers.
But then a helpful fellow called Google explained in great length that DIY actually means “Do It Yourself.” In most cases it is used for those previously mentioned home renovation plans, but I’ve heard of injuries with staple guns so it could certainly apply to crafting projects.
Because I grew up in a DIY household I felt a bit shameful that the letters didn’t connect sooner, without having a computer giving me the scoop.
Both my parents were DIYers. After searching my long-term memory, I can only recall two occasions when Dad had someone come in to help him with some chores. He could have done both himself but he had to meet certain building codes in the home he and a bee of friends had built.
Thus he had an electrician friend from a neighbouring town come in and check out the wiring and to make adaptations when necessary. I am uncertain if money changed hands but I know the friend would have eaten well while on the premises.
The second bit of assistance came when the village provided infrastructure improvements to allow indoor plumbing, with flusher and taps of running water that didn't come from the cistern. My Mom’s cousin came from Rugby, N.D. to assist with that project. He received room and board, gasoline for his truck and was the first to christen the new flush toilet. He might have received some money too.
Other than those two occasions, the parents carried on the DIY life, with their children also learning certain life skills.
The ones I wish I had mastered are anything to do with sewing, stitching, knitting, darning and similar enterprises. If I had such DIY skills, I would be able to run a sewing machine without catching my finger under the needle. I would be able to knit a scarf without holes in it and I might even embroider a T-towel with even stitches and without knots.
More importantly I would be able to shorten my own trousers without the use of packing tape and paper clips. And those long, long sleeves on jackets and blouses would be neatly altered without the bulge of the extra material being turned up or under.
Just the other day I stumbled upon a video showing how, with just a few stitches placed appropriately and then pulled slightly with a bit of a pucker, the sleeves would magically tighten and be just the right length at the wrist. I was so intrigued that I figured I might be able to handle that DIY project.
When I later tried to watch the video, it had been replaced by someone using a sewing machine to effortlessly install a zipper in jeans that had rips in the knees.
So with no Do It Yourself projects likely to invade my future, perhaps my personal interpretation of DIY should read: “Don’t Interrupt Yellowstone.”
Joyce Walter can be reached at ronjoy@sasktel.net
The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author, and do not necessarily reflect the position of this publication.
