Her Tools AKA My Tools

Were you a woman in your 30's during the 1970's? Did you identify as a feminist? Part of the Women's Liberation Movement? Did you, like me, buy yourself a pink tool kit? 

The quality of the tools was mediocre, but it felt like a statement: "I have my own tools. I'm capable of fixing things myself. I am an independent woman."

Over the years the case broke and the tools were either lost or broken and discarded. A few days ago I found something that would work to replace a broken clip on the cover of our large oscillating table fan. I was having trouble getting it fastened so HD came to help. I said, "We need a pair of needle nose pliers", bent to open the bottom cupboard drawer and pulled out my pink pliers. Fan fixed. And the memory of my pink tool case surfaced.

Just like my mother and grandmother, I keep a few tools handy in the kitchen - screwdrivers, pliers, vise grips, scissors, etc. The ball peen hammer was my mother's. I still remember which cupboard drawer she kept it in. The pliers may, or may not, be grandma's. When she died the only thing my mom really wanted of her's were her pliers. I also remember just where grandma kept them.

They both had the same rule: "If you use my tools, put them back where you found them." Obviously I have the same rule. Which is why, when I couldn't find my orange handled screwdriver this morning, I asked Bud what he had done with it. He didn't remember having it, but I found it on his workbench in the garage.

"I don't care if you use my tools - just put them back where you found them."