The pleasures and sorrow of working with tradespeople.

Next week my very good friend Steve is coming over for the day. We will laugh, tell stories, and ask about each other’s families – and actually listen for the response. Then Steve will leave and email me an invoice later in the week. Steve is not my therapist – he is my electrician. We have been together since he had one baby and a fledgling business. Now he has two school aged children and a growing and successful company. 

Our conversation moves seamlessly from important work details to equally important details of life. Problems are dealt with swiftly and with honesty and clarity. Respect is genuine, rewards are shared easily, and we will sit happily together with a glass of wine or two. Sometimes Steve and his team do more than we hoped for, and sometimes he just can’t get it all done – but we know the balance is right.

On the flipside, we recently had a bathroom fitter, that although excellent at his craft, failed miserably at all other aspects of respecting our home and family. I think of him often as the overall humanistic experience was so deeply unpleasurable, that I am still trying to understand it. And to fathom what I can learn from it.

When we invite a tradesperson to our home, there is often an enormous mis-step as they cross the threshold. Many believe that they are there to simply install a kitchen or decorate a sitting room. A transaction of time and money only. What the great ones know is that they are coming to help us tell the story of our home. Helping us feel safe, respected and right with our choices – no matter our taste or budget. 

I liken a great tradesperson to an excellent restaurant. A place where the food is delicious, the space extremely comfortable and the staff are both personable and professional. You are listened to; suggestions are offered to improve your meal and the bill is in perfect equilibrium to your pleasurable experience. 

For pleasure to far outweigh sorrow, inviting someone to work with us on our home also requires that we are good customers. Polite, respectful and that we pay our bills on time.

Clarity is everything.  It isn’t romantic or cool to design as you go, unless everyone knows this is how it’s going to be. A louche approach will ensure everything grinds to a halt, which means sorrow reigns triumphant.

Know your timings, know what you want and know that if you change it, it will (and should) cost you extra. And please know that you must have your tiles, taps (and paint) delivered days before they are needed. If you don’t, then you will make poor decisions. There isn’t anything more painful than staring at ugly taps in an overpriced store, knowing you have no choice.

Be detailed and specific. Even if you don’t have professional drawings, you can make a great job with pencil sketches and a spreadsheet. For decorating projects, a simple paint specification sheet with colours and finishes for each surface and room, is a lifesaver. Always date and version everything. So, if you decide to change the colour of the bedroom, you have something confirming which version you want everyone to work from.

Remember that it is our choice to renovate, so we must be ready to put up with some discomfort. Some of my most memorable meals have been cooked off a camping stove. Some of my worst nightmares have been no bathroom. But it is still a choice and aren’t we lucky to have it?

And lastly - be human. Be kind, communicate with positivity and be professional. Make sure your tradespeople have access to all the things we take for granted at home when they are in your home. I could write much about this, but I think you know what I mean. 

Steve knows that home is more than a business transaction. Many tradespeople believe they are coming to install a kitchen.

The good ones know that they are helping you create a life.