Tag Archives: tools

Goodwill horrors.

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Thrift store shopping is always an adventure. And while it’s true you have to sort through a lot of trash, sometimes you find a treasure. My girlfriend and I used to make monthly pilgrimages to various shops and believe me when I say we have found some seriously odd things. So when I came across this article about the strange things Goodwill employees find, I knew I had to share.

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A suitcase full of dildos? Well, I suppose you could repurpose them like this woman did.

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Yikes. I don’t imagine the kangaroo was too happy about that.

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Damn. I wondered why I couldn’t find mine.

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Is it me? Or are you noticing the distinct trend toward the penile at Goodwill..

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They’re probably right. But it wouldn’t have been me.

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Things I may have to buy.

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I saw a list of things you should buy your significant other to show how much you love them yesterday. And while none of these products fit that bill…. they did make me chuckle at the thought of owning them and putting them in the barn bar.

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Come on, you know that will come in handy someday.

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Bar mascot? It could be.

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Maybe if I get the husband one of these he can practice on pizza for his next remodel project. Eating those mistakes will be a lot more enjoyable than staring at his construction errors for the next 20 years.

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Who is this man and what have you done with my husband?

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It’s beginning to feel like Invasion of the Body Snatchers up at Casa River.

There’s a pod here somewhere…. I know it.

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It’s the only possible explanation for why you can currently see the floor… and walls!…. of our garage.

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The look alike alien husband removed the rattle trap archaic blower which was here when we moved in.

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He even *gasp* hung things up. Look, little shelves with neatly coiled tie down straps! Be still my heart.

And then? Excuse me while I reach for my smelling salts… he took his prized 400 lb antique potato planter out of the big barn.

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He loaded it on his truck.

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And gave it to our town’s historical society!

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(I think I may have passed out at this point.)

And just when I was sure my husband had been replaced by an otherworldly facsimile…

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I found him back in the garage knee deep in this.

Delicate apparatus?

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Well, not quite.

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Box full of rusty old tools that haven’t worked since Christ was a Corporal?

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There he is!

Welcome back honey. I missed you…

The rodent revolution can’t be far behind.

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I didn’t pray for this miracle, but I’ll take it.

Day two of the husband cleaning out the garage.

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Things were going well until he hit this corner…

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And found mouse nesting material covering whatever the hell was stored there.

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When he pulled off the filthy blanket?

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Yes. Those are corn cobs.

WTH?

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Sweeping off the pounds of nasty mess revealed this:

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Old, rusty and doesn’t work?

A keeper.

But the sweeping also revealed this:

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A tiny, squeaking baby mouse.

And when there’s a tiny, squeaking baby mouse?

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There’s a crazed mother mouse searching for it close behind.

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We spent the next half hour reuniting the little bastards, but the damage was done.

Their home had been destroyed…. like the chipmunks in the baby barn and the red squirrels in the house eaves.

Three rodent families displaced in the course of a summer.

I fear for our safety this winter.

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The miracle continues…

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Out of nowhere the husband decided to clean the garage.

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And there was lots to sort through and clean believe me.

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Did I crochet that?

I once superglued the straps of my bathing suit together, so… no.

Like hundreds of other items that show up in our out buildings, I have no clue how it came to be there. But the point is, the husband was willing to get rid of some things and that had to be celebrated.

Applauded.

And crowed about on a blog.

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Okay, so he wasn’t willing to part with everything. This was old, rusted and didn’t work.

In other words, a keeper!

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Halfway though the day he stumbled on that motorcycle dolly he just had to have. You know the one… I bought it for his birthday 10 years ago, almost broke my back getting it into the house and wrapped? The one he not only didn’t use, but never even opened?

Yeah, that one.

Problem was it had been stuck in the back of the garage for all that time and a mouse family had moved in. So when he picked it up?

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The bottom of the box gave way.

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And pounds of mouse shavings, clippings and poo fell out.

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But one side of the building revealed it did indeed have a (seriously cracked) floor and the truck was filling up for a dump run.

Cue the brass band.

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Naturally if I put anything in there, it had to be gone over with a fine tooth comb. Which by the way, I found three of.

None with a full set of teeth.

Good times.

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Day 4… deck project.

 

Four days in and we were finally ready to start adding the balustrades.

 

 

This involved a large amount of math, which as we have previously discussed… is not our strong suit.

 

 

Measuring was required. So much measuring. The fractions, the division…

Oh! The horror.

I carefully calculated the spacing of 8 rails for each section. I checked and rechecked to make sure it was accurate.

 

 

Which meant 7 of them fit perfectly.

Am I good or what?

 

 

Okay, so there were seven instead of 8.

 

 

It still looked good and things were flowing smoothly.

 

 

Until the screw heads starting popping off.

 

 

Once they were in the railing.

Which made me cringe…. and the husband grab his all purpose fix it tool.

 

 

Have hammer, will travel.

Thankfully no harm was done and we finished 3 out of the 4 sections before calling it a day.

 

 

One more section here..

 

 

Then we’ll move on to the other side.

Hopefully the heat wave will be over by then.

Hot flashing menopausal Maine women with broken toes do not fare well in temperatures over 90.

 

And the deck project begins.

 

But not before another trip to the store to buy wood.

 

 

(Yes, I know the husband is wearing his mask incorrectly but his glasses kept fogging up)

Two perfect pieces for the top of the railing had to be found. And even though we were searching through the more expensive smoothed cedar boards?

 

 

They were rife with holes, chops, cracks and warty blemishes.

After 45 minutes…

 

 

We moved on to the 2×4’s.

 

 

Is it any wonder our small weekend projects turn into 3 month long slog fests?

 

 

So this is our deck, and those are the railings that will be replaced.

Hopefully by the end of summer.

Of 2020.

 

 

First step…. remove the old railings.

The first few were easy as they had been screwed.

 

 

Then it got harder with massive doubled rusty nails that didn’t want to let go.

 

 

Did I mention we picked the middle of a heat wave with record breaking temperatures to start this project.

How hot was it….?

 

 

Okay, not quite. Though it felt that way.

That thermometer was sitting on the table in direct sunlight.

It was actually this hot, in the shade.

 

 

And for Maine?

That is insanely frickin’ hot.

 

 

But progress was made.

 

 

And halted when rotting beam sections had to be cut out.

 

 

With 1950’s era tools.

 

 

Yes, I’m afraid so.

And you know what happens when you use power tools from the middle of the last century?

 

 

Nothing good.

And we’re back.

 

Baby barn work commences…. again.

And I have to ask – are we the only ones who take a year to remodel what is in essence a small shed?

On second thought, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.

 

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So we’ve moved around to the back half to finish our utterly favorite part…..and by that I mean the hellish nightmare that is angled trim work. I believe we’ve established we suck at this and not wanting to break tradition, we still do.

 

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How badly do we suck?

I’m glad you asked.

 

 

Badly enough to require shaving corners with less than modern tools if you’re my other half.

 

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What….

You mean 1940’s saws aren’t still viable members of the tool arsenal?

 

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Yes, that’s always my reaction as well….

But the husband says it still has life left in it.

 

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Corners were turned…

 

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Though not all of them where they should be…

As the poppa barn ( who’s still screaming for paint and agrees with River how wonderful he would look in a nice rusty red with white trim ) looked on in horror.

 

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To be continued.