It’s a funny thing, this home ownership. Depending on how you look at it, it can be a source of great pride and joy or a total guilt trip. Renting is so free of worries – you don’t have to paint, even though you might want to, you can’t renovate, even if you’d like to. Ultimately, it’s not your place to fix, you’re only borrowing it. But when it’s your own place…changing one thing can trigger a chain reaction which leads to a complete renovation.
There’s nothing which makes the difference between the sexes more apparent than talking about what should be done to improve the house. We women think in practical terms such as a ‘nice’ bathroom and a ‘decent’ kitchen. A man tends to concentrate more on the ‘finer’ (so they think!) things in life: a home cinema, stereo speakers in every room and a three-phase power in the shed just in case he needs to do an industrial lathe. Agreeing about what needs doing to a house is something that’s never going to happen and you might as well accept it. Let’s take a simple example.
From what I’ve seen in my own home, and amongst my married friends, most men don’t really care what’s in front of a window frame as long as there’s glass in it. Tell them blinds and they think venetians. Ok, she says, get some quotes for some blinds; the sun coming through the kitchen window is so hot she can’t do the washing up in the mornings. He thinks, better do it, or he may end up doing the washing up himself.
The blind man arrives. I’ll rephrase that: the man selling blinds arrives and asks him what kind of blinds he was thinking about. He wasn’t thinking about blinds at all – are there different types? Oh yes, says the blind man (the man selling…you know). Venetians? The blind man then goes on to reveal that there are different widths of slat and different colours. He is amazed; who would have known? He makes executive decisions. Gloss, cream, 25-millimetre slats; she is going to be so happy with him when she gets home. What about the patio doors? The blind man says verticals; he sees the sense in that and makes more decisions on colour and fabric. She’ll probably give him a cuddle for being this smart.
She comes home. He says, ‘Venetians.’ She says they can’t have venetians in the kitchen – too much steam and grease, they’ll get discoloured in no time. Ahh, but they’re gloss-finished, he points out. She’s already onto the next problem. She hates verticals. He’s all out of excuses. ‘But they’re cheap,’ he says, hoping that will bring her round. Too late, he obviously doesn’t ever listen to her; she doesn’t know why she bothers. He is frustrated and goes off to play on his Playstation.
Sound familiar? And that was just the margin of error possible on blinds for three windows. Imagine how far apart you can get on a whole extension. Men are broad-brush merchants; they think about the big picture, we women are into detail, such as where to hang the little picture. A man can never ask too many stupid questions when he’s trying to understand what his partner wants. She will say the word ‘dishwasher’ and know exactly what she means. She’ll have in her mind the colour, the brand, where it should go in the kitchen and the type of powder she’ll use. He’ll think, does she mean like a machine or have we got to pay someone to come in and wash up? Even roof insulation can turn into a major debate. He finds out there are different types and get quotes, but she wants to know what the difference between wool, polyester and fibreglass. He says it’s obvious; you wouldn’t wear a fibreglass sweater, would you?
And the differences don’t stop inside the house. There’s the garden. You think you know someone until you start to garden with them. Guys think shed, garage, a few shrubs, some grass to mow, maybe a place to put an old car to do up. We girls think a herb garden and veggie patch, place to grow flowers for cutting, roses, stone edging, no straight lines, nice and informal.
Whatever you’re about to embark on around the house, remember that men are from Mars and women are from Venus, and dishwashers are from the planet Zanussi.
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