Wait wait wait: You’re a chick?
I retract every haiku I’ve ever wrote.
I apologize for my crudity. I had no idea.
A "chick"? Wow, nobody's called me a chick. And lived much longer with all their parts.
While my brother was off with his friends playing ball or some such, I was helping my father fix everything around the house. I soon outstripped my dad's fixit talents. I inherited my dad's ability for design (he was an engineering draftsman) and have been designing and building stuff for my own use since I'm a little mite. I like to fix things, too. Can't stand having to throw something away for want of a little repair.
My dad used to call me "the cardboard engineer" (remembering that brings a smile to my face, as my dad's been gone for 20 years) because until I was about 10, he didn't allow me to use a saw. So I fabricated usable stuff from cardboard.
As I said, my home is full of beautiful things I designed and either built myself or had built to my spec. Much of it is in oak, because I adore that gorgeous wood.
Folks like you would never even look up at my doing these things if I didn't own an X chromosome. Get with the program, bud. Tools don't come in pink and blue.