Tuesday afternoon, I took a scrap piece of aluminum siding and turned it into a corner cap to replace the one that disappeared when a crew was stabilizing our foundation a couple months back.

The corner caps are hard to find and I couldn’t see how to buy just one. I realized that I had the materials to make one that copied the existing ones. It’s not perfect, but it works.

Late in the process, as I was filing the edge smooth with a file from my Swedish grandfather, I thought about what got me to this project.

I’m not a handyman or a skilled carpenter. But I learned that it’s okay to try stuff.

Grandpa Larson had used a grinder to turn this file into a gouge and had put a handle on it which still has a layer of bark. Making what you need from what you have is a tool for me.

My dad’s job was speaking and teaching and administering in a nonprofit. But his work was making stuff and making stuff work.

Both of them accumulated bits of stuff. I still pull things I need from drawers of screws and boxes of bolts. In the last two days, I’ve used Grandpa’s files and dad’s trowel and clamp. Our grandson’s bed has some screws and acorn nuts from my dad’s boxes. And Ben and I often spend time in the garage. He thinks he’s working when he uses tools first touched decades ago by our family. I know I’m trying to give him other kinds of tools, too.

The most significant tool from both of them is permission. Permission to try. Permission to watch YouTube videos for explanations. Permission to hire someone for parts of the project and to learn from them for next time.

I know that people are different and families are different. And maybe you don’t have boxes of mismatched screws to reach into. And maybe you don’t have permission.

I realized that maybe I can help you with that.

If you need a box of junk with potential, let me know.

And I give you permission to try stuff.