Blame that fruity bitch, Ester.
Dementia care leads you into strange places. The loft is one of those bizarre time-capsules. I was back there so I could fix the can-opener.
Today I tackled a few household projects. Three small black and white pictures of the Eiffel Tower went up in an awkward space. Those images fill that awkward space rather well.
Hammering the picture fixings into place was, go on, guess.
Awkward.
Done with that, and a hammer still to hand, I rearranged another three black and white pictures. Measure five times, hammer once. Stand on pencil. Snap pencil.
Fix pencil problem by breaking pencil in two. Sharpen new shorter pencil.
I'm using signs around the house. Uncovering three magnets in a box, I resolved to photograph all the pills and post instructions on the fridge.
Photos, done. Sign typed up and printed. Posted on the fridge, away from the sink. (Signs are wrapped in plastic anyway.) That's three magnets out of the way.
Two decorative magnets were broken. I whipped out the glue and fixed those. This is where the smell of pears came from. The ester in glue.
Ester is a fruity bitch, responsible for the pears.
In the loft, I hunted out a small wedge of wood. I made it smaller by sawing the shit out of it. Why? To fix the can-opener, of course.
The electric can-opener has a spur of plastic that depresses onto the contact switch, activating the machine. That spur is the first thing to go, through regular wear and tear.
With the thin strand of plastic gone, there's a yawning cavern of space not hitting the switch. I filled the chasm with the wooden block I quickly sawed.
For once, I sawed the spare chunk of wood into the right shape and size. The work of mere minutes. These days, it's a crime that we can't fix things.
Doesn't stop us from trying to fix things, though. The can-opener works again. There's an extra reminder of the pills that are dished out, when they are dished out, and in what quantities too.
Six pictures are back on the walls, in a rearranged fashion. Household maintenance isn't about fixing a thing. It's about using the tools to fix a whole bunch of things at once.
And now, time for food. I'll be using a fork, and not a saw.
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