Skippity Whistles exists to explain the things nobody told you.
Or maybe someone did — once — a long time ago.
Maybe you were ten years old in your dad’s garage and he showed you how to use a socket wrench. You nodded. You understood. And then life moved on.
Now you’re standing in your own garage, facing a project, holding that same wrench, and you just need the reminder.
Or maybe you’ve never touched a reciprocating saw before, but the job in front of you absolutely calls for it.
That’s where we come in.
There are thousands of videos online showing you exactly what to do — how much tape to use, how many times to turn the screw, where to hold the tool. Those are useful. We use them too.
But Skippity Whistles is different.
We focus on the understanding behind the action.
We explain:
- What the tool is doing
- Why it works the way it does
- Where beginners usually go wrong
- What matters — and what doesn’t
DIY is not about copying someone else’s motions.
It’s about learning enough to make the project yours.
We provide the outline — how drywall works, how to patch a hole, how to use the tool safely and effectively. The actual doing, the learning, the small mistakes and small victories — that part belongs to you.
Because that’s the point.
One day, you might be the one in the garage explaining it to your kids.
Skippity Whistles is published and edited by John D. Reinhart. Every article is curated for clarity, usefulness, and plain-spoken accuracy. No fluff. No theatrics. Just the background you need to move forward with confidence.
If you’re building, fixing, patching, or learning — welcome.
Why the Name Skippity Whistles
The name comes from a foggy November afternoon on the banks of the Sacramento River.
My wife, our twelve-year-old daughter, and I had just returned from Lodi, where we were searching for a breeding rabbit for a 4H project. The river was low. The sky was gray. The whole scene felt a little drab.
Out of the fog came a young man — maybe in his early twenties — dancing along the concrete riverbank. He carried a wooden flute and played a few wandering, almost ancient notes. Then he stopped abruptly and let out a bone-chilling war cry that echoed across the water.
And then he danced back into the fog.
We stood there, stunned.
Our daughter broke the silence.
“I think we can just let Mr. Skippity Whistles have his little moment.”
That line stuck.
Skippity Whistles is about giving people room to have their moment — to try the thing, to learn the skill, to fumble a little, to understand what they’re doing instead of copying someone else’s movements.
DIY work is personal. It’s sometimes awkward. It’s often imperfect. But it’s yours.
We’re just here to give you the background so you can step into the fog with a little more confidence.
Skippity Whistles 