A chimpanzee could build them blindfolded.

Mr. Chin wasn’t impressed. Our kitchen walls needed some interest. “They are dead and boring,” he told us – losing something in the translation.

Open shelves had been the original plan when we ripped off the upper cabinets and sent them downstairs, and then that got stalled. Never came to a decision about style or look – and to buy more things meant I’d have to update our budget and see what was left… and I so didn’t want to do that.

As the apartment grew steadily neater and tidier (wahoo!), I’d been using the kitchen desk more and more. (Buying a stool of the proper height rather than awkwardly hovering helped). Hmm. Nothing happened for weeks until I one day saw some picture ledges on Ana White’s site. The neurons fired an entire plan in about 0.2 seconds.

It was early morning. Paolo would be gone for some time. These ledges, Ana promised were the easiest thing that could possibly be built. A chimpanzee could build them blindfolded.

I could make Paolo a surprise!!!!!!

Setting out in surprise… I read through every single one of the comments (some 60 million) on the how-to page. Other readers – many of them women who claimed to have never touched a drill in their lives – chimed in saying they’d knocked these together in mere hours. I had almost a whole day. I was so excited to get started — and, given the enormous scrap wood pile we had outside… fairly certain we’d have something suitable.

Diving in headfirst, I unearthed a huge chunk of dead boxspring meat. Incredibly – the long piece already had a nose nailed to it, forming the ledge end. “Well, that’s convenient”.

Would there be a back piece in there, of a similar length? More digging, some crashes and bangs…“Why, yes, there would be”.

Are you kidding me!? There are two pieces of wood here of the perfect, magical length – one of them already assembled in ledge-shape? Pushing my luck… I investigated further. “Could I have an identical second pair of these woods, please?”

That box spring – is the gift that keeps on freaking giving. First a drawer organizer… and now two perfect picture ledges. My excitement knew no bounds. I dragged our work bench into place, put the laptop on an adjacent table and went in search of “things I thought I’d need”. The drill, wood glue, sandpaper… stuff that Heidi the Tool Girl keeps on her person at all times.

Making picture ledges

1. Make the wood scraps look less death-inducing. And less shit. I pulled out the staples with pliers.

2. Invent tall tales. The ledges came with bent nails along the bottom (where the box springs had attached) and I decided to leave them there. Because I’m weak and lazy? Me? No way man, it’s an aesthetic choice – it makes the wood look “reclaimed” and people shell out big bucks for historic pretense. Maybe I’ll tell people this wood, this here wood, is from the bunk beds of the very first Canadian Pacific Railway car to reach BC. I bought it at auction and now I have a little piece of steam-powered Canadiana to warm my kitchen.

3. Sand until you get bored or have to change the sanding block. I sanded reasonably half-heartedly – until they wouldn’t cause splinters but not so smooth as to take all day (and inserted full kilos of wood filler).

4. The glue. I started to think these Ana White fans must have 6 hands – because we didn’t have any clamps to hold the glued pieces together. Nor did we have string and I stopped short of using Paolo’s belts. Never doubt the awesome power of raffia.

5. Counter what? Per Ana’s instruction, I was then meant to pre-drill some holes, screw the two pieces tightly together, and then counter sink them. With no Paolo to explain how to do this, no DIY Dad on Skype, and no further clue how to do this — I got fully stuck. Fully stuck. I had such high hopes for these picture ledges and didn’t want to wreck them now by forging ahead in experiment. More awkward still, with only raffia to keep them in place, I was worried my novice drilling would send them flying. Not really trusting the quality of this wood, ahem, this historic wood – I’d have been utterly heartbroken to send the stuff back to the scrap heap.

6. Surprise! In my head – I wanted the beauties on the wall, lined with photos I just happened to have framed and ready. Paolo would walk in and – surprise! Look what I did! As things stood, he was coming home to a heap of wood glue, a sticky ball of raffia and a baffling assembly of scrap.

Mummykins, this time, to the rescue – sort of. iChat instruction on what to do, careful guidance on how to do… with a timely question: “How are you going to get them on the wall by yourself?” Stuck on the assembly, I hadn’t even thought that far. They were heavy. Should global forces have aligned to allow me to join them with a stud… they’d never end up level.

7. Redress gender imbalance. When we started this project, I’d say our skills were about equal. Because of the way labour was divided – boy does stronger things, girl has plenty to do elsewhere – Paolo can now attach lights to wires, sinks to pipes, wood to walls. And has no fear of saws or other shiny, scary sharp things. I never wanted this disparity – never intended to be the useless girl… but things happen more quickly when one person is sawing the wood and the other is inside measuring it. Or he’s installing the lights while I’m painting the walls.

I stood there, willing my ledges to life, feeling damn near useless. Every other person on the ledges page had managed this, problem-free, without breaking a sweat.

“But Ana! What does ‘counter sink’ even mean?”

After lengthy consult with Mummykins, we decided that these ledges needed to be a team effort. They’d still be a surprise – but he’d get to play with power tools. A coat of primer and two coats of semi-gloss paint later – they weren’t even dry by the time he arrived home. Good intentions, not quite executed – it’s what he knows & loves.

Eventually the ledges made it on to the wall – and I still can’t believe they came from a box spring. I love them, as does Paolo. They look a little bit rustic, a little bit farmy.

They fit picture frames & cookbooks – but not much else.

As for the actual pictures? What kind of blog do you think this is? One where art magically goes on walls? Riiight….