You have a house.
It does something weird.
Ask Bradley.
This is the part of the Digital Vault for the questions homeowners actually type into Google while standing three feet away from the problem:
Why won't my door close?
Can a handyman fix this?
Is this supposed to move?
How much is this going to cost me?
Can we repair it or am I replacing the whole damn thing?
And who am I even supposed to call for this?
I’m Bradley.
Carpenter. Handyman. Professional observer of things previous homeowners definitely said they'd fix later.
Ask me about:
Carpentry & wood repair
Trim, molding, built-ins, cabinets, shelves, damaged wood and the little details making your house look cheaper than it is.
Doors, windows & hardware
Sticking doors, sagging doors, locks, hinges, handles, weatherstripping and doors requiring a secret family technique to close.
Fences, gates & decks
Loose boards, leaning posts, dragging gates, questionable railings and the eternal Utah question: repair it or replace it?
Installation & assembly
Shelving, fixtures, hardware, furniture, wall-mounted things and the box that's been sitting unopened in your garage for six months.
Kitchen & bathroom fixes
Cabinets, hardware, trim, caulk, shelving and the thousand smaller projects hiding between “everything's fine” and “we need to remodel.”
Storage & built-ins
Closets, garages, alcoves, dead walls, entryways and all the square footage you're already paying a mortgage on but somehow aren't using.
Old Salt Lake houses
Rose Park ramblers. Sugar House bungalows. Glendale. Fairpark. Poplar Grove. Liberty Wells. The Avenues. And whatever previous generations have hidden underneath seventeen coats of paint.
General homeowner confusion
If you don't even know what the thing is called, that's fine.
Send me a picture.
Anything about your house.
Seriously.
You do not need to diagnose the problem first.
That's why you're asking.
Instead of:
“I believe my exterior door has experienced hinge-side jamb deformation resulting in improper latch alignment.”
You can say:
“Why do I have to lift this stupid door to lock it?”
Perfect.
I know where to start.
Give me three things:
Take one close-up.
Then take one farther back so I can see what the hell I'm looking at.
Context matters.
Does it:
move?
stick?
leak?
sag?
crack?
rattle?
drag?
refuse to close?
make a noise?
look terrible?
Tell me what changed.
This part matters.
Do you want it:
fixed?
replaced?
upgraded?
made prettier?
made cheaper?
made to stop irritating you every morning?
Those can produce very different solutions.
Yep.
Sometimes the answer is:
You can probably fix that yourself.
Sometimes it's:
I'd repair it instead of replacing it.
Sometimes:
Leave it alone.
And sometimes:
You need an electrician.
You need a plumber.
You need an HVAC technician.
You need a general contractor.
You need somebody to look at that structurally.
I'm interested in fixing things I know how to fix.
I'm not interested in becoming the final sentence of an insurance claim.
Please do.
Send pictures and enough information about the project and I can usually at least tell you what factors are going to determine the cost.
For an actual quote, I may need:
dimensions,
materials,
quantity,
location,
existing conditions,
or to see the project in person.
A picture of one mysterious brown board accompanied by:
“How much?”
is admirable efficiency.
It is not quite enough information.
Please send the whole list.
This is actually better.
Your house probably doesn't have one handyman project.
It has:
a sticking bedroom door,
three cabinet hinges,
two drywall patches,
a shelf you want installed,
one damaged baseboard,
a gate that drags,
and something weird happening in the garage.
That's normal.
Bundle it.
One of the advantages of hiring a handyman is not needing seven different people to solve seven small problems.
I like old houses.
They have personality.
They also have:
crooked walls,
odd dimensions,
solid old doors,
original trim,
mystery modifications,
tiny closets,
interesting woodwork,
and evidence of approximately eight decades of people saying:
“I can probably do this myself.”
If something original is worth saving, I'll tell you.
If something needs replacing, I'll tell you that too.
Old isn't automatically bad.
New isn't automatically better.
And crooked isn't automatically charming.
Excellent.
Those are usually useful questions.
Homeowners aren't supposed to know every component of a house.
That's an absurd expectation.
If you're wondering about it, somebody else probably is too.
And there's a decent chance your question becomes the next thing I answer here.
You might already find your answer in the Digital Vault.
I've covered things like:
How much does a handyman cost in Salt Lake City?
What can a handyman legally do in Utah?
Handyman v. general contractor: who do I actually need?
Should I repair or replace my Utah fence?
When is a deck actually done?
Why is my door sticking?
What happens to exterior wood in Utah's climate?
What problems should I expect in a 1940s or 1950s Salt Lake home?
And, for reasons apparently important to me personally:
why crooked trim is unacceptable.
Search around.
Or don't.
Just ask me.
Send me:
your question
a couple pictures
your Salt Lake-area neighborhood or city
and anything else you think I should know.
If you're asking whether something can be repaired, don't make it look pretty first.
Show me the problem.
The crooked board.
The ugly gap.
The dragging gate.
The damaged cabinet.
The door that only closes during a waxing moon if you push on the upper-left corner.
That's useful information.
I'll tell you what I think.
And if it turns into a project?
Well.
You already know a guy.
Call or text Bradley:
(801) 644-3329