Sunday, August 29, 2010

Deconstructionalism and Bee Futs

Somewhere in the wilds of suburban Winnipeg, high in the boughs of an ancient garage, lurks...


...a somewhat damp Goddess.

It's a Saturday evening in August, and it's raining. In fact, it's been raining all day (or at least since *I* got up, if you want to get technical about it). However, I am not one to let a spot of inclement weather stop Me, and I did indeed spend a few hours in wrecking-ball mode.

It was too damp to use power tools, so I restricted Myself to the basics: Ladder; hammer; crowbar; and various pieces of safety equipment including steel-toed shoes, heavy gloves, goggles, and a hair elastic. I worked outside for two hours and a bit, and managed to tear off a remarkable number of shingles and quite a respectable amount of fir sheathing in varying stages of decay.


It was a bit after 8:30 p.m. when I finally decided it was too dark to work safely. I heaped up the most recent bunch of torn-off stuff, put the tools away, and wobbled into the house to clean up. Red and I then went out for a snack, then came home to watch Disc 2 of Max Headroom.

By sunset tomorrow, I should have the rest of the roof completely off. Then I can start cutting up the sheathing on the garage walls and strip it down to bare 2x4's. Finally, the roof framing and the stud walls will be taken down, section by section.

But we probably won't take the remains to the dump in My Cavalier... I think two, perhaps three pickup loads or one trip in a Bee Fut* oughta do it.


* In regards to futs (especially ones that are sufficiently bee to hold My entire garage), this guy's son knows whereof I speak.

Photos by Red.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

RTFM FTW!

The nice thing about being the Goddess of Random Equipment Malfunctions* is that You learn a lot about the inner workings of household appliances.

The not-so-nice thing about being the Goddess of Random Equipment Malfunctions: You occasionally find Yourself up to Your elbows in dirt, dust, grease and mysterious bits and pieces of household appliances.

Today after supper I finally tackled Astrejurhof's long-suffering upright vacuum cleaner, which is an absolute must in a house full of rowdy cats. It hadn't been picking up; in fact, it was starting to appear that said vacuum had obtained an unlisted phone number and/or run off to Pango-Pango with the battery from My 2001 Cavalier. (Já, goddesses do have car problems. Really good garage guys, too. But I digress.)

I did find the vacuum sulking and pouting in the back of the kitchen, in The Once and Future Spare Washroom (again, a story and a half in itself). Cajoling the device out into the open, I pushed and pulled and checked the hoses and washed the filters and cleaned lint and hair off the rotating brush.

Then I broke down and searched the kitchen Junk Drawer for the manual. In this way I was able to competently open up the brush compartment to check the drive belt...

...Um. Drive belts are supposed to be loops, not linear strips of rubber.

(throws broken belt and manual into purse) Well, the rest of this adventure should be a snap. If you get My drift.

* My current magisteria are the Northern Hemisphere vernal equinox; chocolate; punctuation; and random equipment malfunctions. Occasionally I think about assuming more responsibilities; then I have a nice lie-down until I feel better.