Last couple months I’ve been spending some time with the little fixer-upper house in the country which we thoroughly redid eleven years ago, briefly lived in a couple times by others, but otherwise gradually regaining its fixer-upper status. as poorly-built structures in the country tend to do.
The last time I had been there, I was painting the rejas, or metal bars over the windows. This time I noticed bits of organic matter in the kitchen sink.
Looking overhead, I saw more in my overhead light fixture.
And more in the refrigerator.
Whatever birds they were had either not gotten very far, or were frustrated with the inadequate environment. Which is good. Nesting birds inside the house just doesn’t seem like a desirable thing.
Of course I made a note to myself: the next time you open all the windows and screens in the house for painting or cleaning or whatever – close the damn things before you leave!
Our house guest complained of mosquitoes in the casita (little house) so I had to clear space on my horribly cluttered workbench to slap together a screen insert for the window.
In which process I discovered a rather large, upside-down, and pretty-much dead spider. No idea how or why it got there, nor what killed it.
In my account of tearing out my bathroom furniture, I didn’t mention the glass sink that was attached to it. I didn’t have with me large enough pliers to remove it, so as soon as I got back, even before removing the whole thing from the car, I set about and…clink! The glass sink removed itself.
After 15 years, the connector couldn’t handle the shear stress when I turned the cabinet on its side. Well, I thought, that is not exactly a replaceable piece of hardware. So what to do with a round glass sink? Birdbath? But how to plug the hole in the bottom? Things to think about later. For now, just park it on the table outside.
And then it rained.
Problem solved?
Actually, no: the sides are too steep for a bird bath.
In 2012, about a year before the Cyprus bankers stole their depositors’ money, we decided to move cash out of our European bank account. We purchased a 5+ hectare chacra about ten kilometers inland. For what? That was to be seen. We chose to fix the little disaster of a house, going against everyone’s recommendation. You can see my various posts about the chacra here.
It has been unoccupied almost entirely since. A couple from Namibia stayed there in the summer of 2016, and a local guy and his family the summer a couple years ago. We spent New Year’s Eve 2017 there, only to be awakened at 5:30 AM by 35 dogs barking—boarded for summer holidays by the veterinarian next door (happily, she no longer has that business). We have thought about selling it, realized it needed a lot of work, and I started making lists….
Last few days, bathroom: replaced bath/shower faucet to get it working, replaced float mechanism to get toilet working, needed to remove sink faucet. Close to impossible, so I decided to remove the L-shaped counter with its two drawers. The flexible drain pipe broke as soon as I tried to move it, which was just as well since the counter construction made it impossible to remove except by detaching it from the wall, where it was glued (?!?) to the wall plumbing. I don’t recall how that happened. Anyway, got the whole thing home and took it apart this morning.
My god what a mess! 50+ screws, all kinds of little bits and pieces of wood cobbled together. Who was the idiot who designed and built this thing?
Of course you know the answer.
Encouraged by an American woodworker, I had bought a pocket hole jig from the US (now sold here a dozen years later, I notice) and decided it would be fun and creative to build cabinets for our country place! Well it wasn’t.
(Actually, the pocket holes are cool.)
So what now? Well, I see all kinds of bathroom furniture for sale online. Not particularly expensive, not particularly challenging. And at a certain point that appeals.
When we replaced the rotting roof of the cochera (carport) I ended up with lots of scrap wood. Instead of the expense and hassle of getting proper windows installed―after all, all I wanted is to keep rain out―I slapped together a frame with some sheet plastic (“nylon” in the local parlance).
Well, Uruguay is nothing if not windy, and they quickly succumbed. So: Plan B, sheet plastic with plastic netting on either side. I’m only doing one, as a test, for some reason.
I noticed an awning support outside our kitchen window was rotting. I thought, I can do this!
After measuring, I went to Aserradero Rocha in nearby Pinamar, where you can rummage through off-cuts for any length of wood you need, an unusual and welcome feature.
Leaning against the window is a temporary support pole I kluged together. The little piece at the top the remaining length of the piece of lumber I purchased for the project…which I find oddly satisfying.
When we arrived in Uruguay in 2009, we started buying the only yogurt that came in glass jars. After a couple years, they switched to plastic, but “nice” plastic – as in, clear and convenient to reuse.
Today I was removing labels and saw for the first time that they actually leave a space for you to label the contents when reusing their container – sweet! (Acá guardo = “Here I keep.”)
Nonetheless, I prefer them the labels removed, which requires only a couple minutes with an old kitchen scouring sponge, some turpentine, and cleaning up with dish detergent.
And yes, we do have a yogurt maker and do occasionally remember to use it 😉
After 13 years, one of the plastic flanges that held our vacuum cleaner’s filter in place broke. Shortly after, the stress broke a second. But, epoxy and a few metal washers, and I have flanges again – possibly stronger than the original.
Long ago, somebody gave me a couple of pieces of plastic gutter. Then at a job I supervised, a delivery included excess downspout. So I bought a few more pieces and put a gutter on our barbacoa.
The problem is, I didn’t do a very good job and the fascia board was not in good shape.
As you can see.
I had another long, narrow board left over from a remodel, so I installed it. I have enough of the originals to rip a piece to fit the gap. The fascia boards should cover the rafter ends, but hey: not perfect, but not bad.
One of today’s projects was reinstalling the cutter as a planter. The 2% grade is probably overkill, but the way I’ve installed it with wire, that is easily adjustable. Note how the downspout is cut perfectly to rest on the tile zócalo. I did not cut any pipe. That just happened.
