Starting Small: Simple DIY Budget Fixes

Whenever I even think about fixing stuff at home, I get this flash of dread—like, it’s never just “tighten a screw,” my wallet’s already groaning, and my partner’s mood? Yeah, who knows. I’m all for baby steps, even though, sure, someone once rolled their eyes at me for sewing up a hole in my jeans instead of, I dunno, learning to rewire a lamp. Whatever.

Using Spare Change for Big Wins

Coins. Seriously, they’re everywhere—wedged in sofa cracks, rattling in the dryer, lurking in that jar you keep meaning to cash in. I got so annoyed with my kitchen chairs wobbling, I just glued a couple quarters under the legs. Felt pads fall off anyway (and cost, like, way more than you’d expect). The chair’s solid now. Who’s fancy? Not me. I even jammed a nickel in a rattly window frame one time, and it shut up for weeks. I once used a busted baking dish as a “garden marker” by shoving coins in the crack—don’t ask, it made sense at the time.

Here, whatever, a table before I forget:

Nobody ever explains what “small” means for DIY—like, is a toonie overkill? The other day I found a Canadian penny and spent way too long wondering if they even make those anymore. Didn’t fix anything, just lost half an hour.

Bringing Your Spouse on Board

The real boss fight? Telling my spouse I’m about to “fix” something. Last jeans patch, she hit me with, “Did you check YouTube?”—so we watched five tutorials, all different. We argued about thread color, then it was dinner, and the jeans still had a hole. Classic.

If we’re both in the room, stuff gets done (or at least, started). She once slid a sock over a paintbrush to dust a vent. Genius, honestly. Other times, she’s like, “Why don’t we just call someone?” We scribbled this on our whiteboard, right under “buy eggs”:

• Pin project ideas to the fridge (so we remember)
• Split tools up, nobody’s waiting
• Laugh at our fails—like when I taped a sock to a broom and called it “innovation”

Sometimes the win is just agreeing to ignore a project for another week. I’ll take it. Beats arguing about lightbulbs, which, by the way, I still get wrong.

Emergency Fund Essentials for DIY Enthusiasts

Building a bookshelf next to a pile of random screws, it hit me: money leaks out in the dumbest ways. I’ve swapped old jeans for tool cash, canceled streaming for paint money, and still, the “emergency fund” thing feels like a scam until you actually need it. Not having one? Way worse.

Building a Safety Net

No magic trick here—trust me, I tried. One month the drill dies, the next, the dog eats something weird and bam, vet bill. Experts yell about “three to six months of expenses” saved up, but let’s be real, I’m not stashing that in the snack drawer. I made this chart with rent, groceries, hardware store runs, minus whatever I blow on bulk screws. The total freaked me out, but at least now I know what “bare minimum” looks like if I get fired (which, fingers crossed, won’t happen). I toss a few bucks in whenever I can, sometimes after selling a wrench I forgot I owned. All of it lands in the “EMERGENCY” account, not the “treat yourself” one.

Shortcut? List junk you don’t need, cross off the stuff you wish was essential but isn’t. Here’s a table, because why not:

Planning for Life’s Uncertainties

Emergencies just show up. One second I’m on the roof fixing a shingle, next, the ladder’s toast and work’s a maybe. Budgeting? I tried an app, got bored, ordered pizza. Paper lists work better—rent, insurance, tools (only if they die), groceries. Everything else waits. If my car dies, I’ll raid the emergency fund, but if I spent it on some “limited edition” paint tray, well, that’s on me.

My “plan” is random—cashback from apps, coins from the couch, whatever. I dumped ten bucks in last month. Feels dumb, but when the water heater goes or someone smashes a window (don’t ask), at least I’m not listing denim jackets on eBay at 2am.