Some people like to recreate for fun. They like to while away the hours reading books by a babbling brook, indulging in a game of golf, or perhaps fancy a country drive.

We Clinches like to be productive when it comes to entertainment. At least that's what Pat, my dearly beloved spouse, has informed us. He never quite understood why reasonable folks would waste time sleeping on a day off when you could be organizing nails, or resting comfortably on the front porch when you could so happily build a new one out back.

So, while other folks spent the past weekend enjoying picnics, tailgates and family gatherings, we Clinches packed up our tool belts and went to visit friends across the state.

Yes sir, luckily enough for us, they had a do-it-yourselfer project that was just ripe for the picking.

Go us! When one is married to a man who could rival Bob Villa, one can get sucked into projects such as this. It's not for the weak-backed, the thin-nailed, or those who simply just don't want to.

And since my level of expertise is somewhat subpar when it comes to using a plumb bob, I get to be the runner, the errand girl and the go-to gal.

They send me for this, have me pick up that and say, why not get a couple'a two or three of those while you're there?

Wanting to avoid the whole situation, I did as any woman who valued her down-time would do, and grabbed myself a fall decorating magazine, a good stiff cup of Joe, and buried myself in a pumpkin patch where even the most diligent couldn't find me.

I was somewhere between an article on fall planting and the art of squash stenciling when I heard a summons from deep within the abode. "Lori," that man of mine called, "Oh, Lori!"

As I bolted from my hiding spot and quickly set out to find another, he stepped into my path as stealthily as a cat. Then he smiled and spoke the words that every woman dreads hearing, "I need you to go to the hardware store and get us a few necessary items." I took the news like a slap on the back and pouted like a kid going to clean the john.

If you've never done it, then I'm here to tell you that running for "a couple of things" for your husband is about as fun as enduring a final exam for a class that you've never taken. You're not familiar with the terms, you don't know the definitions, and you feel totally out of the loop with the lingo.

And there's nothing, and I do mean nothing, that makes one feel dumber than staring at a wall of bolts when any fool could easily have seen that you needed a nut.

Worse yet, I found myself with a list that could have been written in Gaelic for all I knew.

As I stood in front of a vast display of things that could strengthen your walls, tie your wires, and throw a wrench into your works, I pondered the list.

"Say," I said to Little Charlie, my reluctant cohort, "How's about you go and find us someone who knows what a locknut is?"

Charlie was not any happier about the hardware runs than I was, but he'd been bribed with candy, and although he was reluctant to do so, he took his sucker and went off in search of someone, anyone who not only might know everything there is to know about locknuts, but who also could speak Gaelic fluently.

"How'd you do?" I asked Charlie when he returned.

"Not so good," he responded with his sucker still in his cheek. Then he pulled it out and used it for emphasis as he said, "All of the employees ran away from me. In fact, only one man stood still, and he sure seemed to have an ax to grind. In fact, he looked like the spooky farmer from Scooby Doo."

"So did you ask him?"

"No," Charlie exclaimed. "He gave me the hairy eyeball and was all but leaning on a pitchfork."

"Bad help is better than no help," I informed him.

"Hmm," Charlie said as he seemed to ponder that information for a moment, "I wonder if that's why Dad always brings us."

Lori Clinch is the mother of four sons and the author of the book "Are We There Yet?" You can reach her at www.loriclinch. com.