A Handle-less Rake Finds Its Mate

Oftentimes, in pre-COVID scavengings of stuff put out on the curb, I would find tops without bottoms, and bottoms without tops. This would happen with tables that lacked legs, or legs that lacked a table. And it would happen with rakes where either the handle or the rake itself was broken. Patient matchmaker that I am, I would keep the good portion and wait for a match to come along.

Such a long awaited marriage took place today, with modest fanfare, when a perfectly fine rake that had been waiting in the carport for the right handle to come along finally got its mate. A red rake had cracked across the middle, making it unusable.

The marriage had been delayed, due to the broken rake's unexpectedly tight grip on the handle. Various tools were brought to bear, with a chisel finally proving effective.

That's part of the challenge of repurposing and repair. In terms of time spent and money saved, the matchmaking may not make obvious sense. One could argue that it's better for the economy to go to the local hardware store and buy a new rake, which helps in a small way to sustain those all along the chain of extraction, processing, manufacture, distribution, and selling that makes a new rake available. But if everyone repairs and reuses, then people need less income to buy new stuff, including everyone who builds or sells rakes. Standard of living would be maintained even as the energy-intensive economy seemed to shrink.

That's a theory. What's more surely real is the patience, persistence, creativity, resourcefulness and physical coordination that go into reuse and repair--all good things to exercise.

Mr. Sustainable's Easy Fix for a Broken Microwave

When our microwave suddenly played dead--its screen gone dark, its buttons unresponsive--Mr. Sustainable was ready. He immediately remembered the last time a microwave began acting strangely, working some days but not others. Back then, his nephew Rhys, wise in the ways of electronics, suggested checking the fuse. It was easy enough to unplug the microwave, unscrew the cover and look inside, and sure enough, replacing a little fuse was all that was needed to get the machine working again, good as ever. (That's the old fuse sitting on top of the microwave in the photo, after making the repair.)

This time, it was even easier, because Mr. Sustainable had bought a package of two fuses the time before and, knowing how little things can get lost, had affixed the extra one to the back of the microwave where it could be easily found. Didn't even have to go to the hardware store. The unused fuse went in, the microwave came back to life, problem solved.

Happy with himself and a world where problems are so easily fixed, Mr. Sustainable cooked a celebratory bowl of broccoli in the microwave with a little olive oil and salt, and chowed down.

In the process, he learned why people don't stick candles in celebratory broccoli. They melt. Who knew?

For previous adventures of Mr. Sustainable with microwave repair, read "Mr. Sustainable Gets a Twofer."

Repair Cafe Open for Business

Looking forward to checking out the new Repair Cafe, at 10 Hulfish Street in Princeton, next to Jazams. A flyer put out by Sustainable Princeton says it's open "most evenings and weekends through July and August", with a special gathering this Wednesday, July 26, 5:30-7:30, for people to learn about bike and furniture repair.

Almost exactly five years ago, I hosted a repair cafe in "Steve's Garage".  With the help of all the support videos and chatrooms the internet provides, and a hardware store close at hand, I had had good luck fixing a garage door, my pickup truck, a Bosch washing machine, and many other things. There can be a tendency to leave these unfinished "projects" sitting around for extended periods of time, but it feels good to repair things rather than throw them away, and it's good exercise for the creative, problem solving functions of the brain. As I wrote back then, the repair cafe concept was meant to extend those solo efforts "with the power of collective thinking to solve problems, and the pleasures of good company. I think of us as kindred spirits to WALL-E, fixing stuff with our wits, spare parts and the tools at hand, wishing we could fix the planet, too."

So, throw a broken chair over your back, jump on your bike, and head to the Repair Cafe. There's also a website devoted to repair cafes.

Finding Empowerment in Shutoff Valve Repair

Just beneath the surface in any house lie mysteries that most of us would be happy to remain oblivious to, and yet when something goes wrong, there is little choice but to launch an exploratory expedition under the kitchen sink or into the basement, where pipery and knobbery of baffling complexity awaits to stymie and perplex.

One option is to call a plumber, but a phenomenon known as "Princeton prices" has caused many of us to seek guidance from the collective wisdom of the internet and take wrench in hand.

Take something as seemingly simple as a dripping faucet. Though I have over the years grown more confident in finessing the faucet handle off and replacing the rubber gasket, that operation requires first shutting water off to the faucet. Chances are, the shutoff valve has become encrustified over the years, and will fail to shut the water off. In the worst case, the shutoff valve will itself begin leaking, compounding the original problem in the faucet.

Such a scenario came to pass in our household just before the holidays, prompting a search of the internet for sage advice. Judging from the placement of his youtube tutorial at the top of the heap, Max Lemberger must be the rock star of shutoff valve repair. The tutorial called for first tightening the packing nut, and yet my leaky shutoff valve (lower right in the photo) lacked any nut to tighten. Deeper did I dig into the bowls of cyberspace, plumbing the depths, so to speak, to find at last the key to repairing my aging home's bout of incontinence. Emboldened by a ThisOldHouse video, I took hacksaw in hand and carefully cut the faulty shutoff valve off, then replaced it with a new one (upper left in photo) that requires no soldiering to install. Not only was the problem fixed, but it has remained fixed for one month and counting--a good omen for the new year.

That operation required first shutting off the main shutoff valve for the house, which itself began to drip when in the closed position. Fortunately, it was a slow drip that slowed further and finally stopped soon after I opened the valve up again. Fortunately, not all mysteries need to be solved, but with the help of the internet and the local hardware store, each successful repair adds to a sense that some portion of destiny is, literally, in our hands.

Easy Fix For a Broken Zipper

Another post from our repair empowerment team:
When my daughter needed a new backpack for school, she wanted one similar to her older sister's, but the online store was out of the desired color. The internet had failed us, but the local Kurbside Kmart came through. With uncanny serendipity, a backpack with the same make and desired color appeared on the curb just around the corner from our house. It looked fine, but we soon discovered a problem. One of the zippers wouldn't zip. The teeth didn't close behind the zipper but remained open.

I went to our handy local Sew Vac Center (three blocks away at the Princeton Shopping Center) and bought a zipper and some thread. While searching the web for insights into hand-sewing zippers (a daunting task), I came across a youtube video that showed how to fix the old one. One well-aimed squeeze of the pliers was all it took to make the zipper work like new again. I made this simple fix several weeks ago, and the zipper is still working.

Matchmaker, Matchmaker, Make Me A Rake

One day, a scavenged rake handle--tineless, alone in the world, feeling unloved and useless--met a beautiful red rake that too had lost its mate and then narrowly escaped a one-way ride to the landfill.

They stood shyly next to each other in the garage for what seemed like months, until the handle, transPortered by the rake's perfect symmetry, could not contain itself any longer and burst out singing, "But if baby I'm the bottom, you're the top."

When he got to the part about how she was "the smile on the Mona Lisa", she could resist no longer.

Thousands of leaves danced at their wedding in the sweet autumn afternoon. They've been happily married ever since, and each year look forward to starting a new leaf pile on its way to maturity.

Post-Installation Pleasures

Anyone arriving late for Christopher Eisgruber's installation as president of Princeton University last weekend would have encountered a scene reminiscent of a yard sale, with a few fans, clothesracks, and a tiger or two still lingering in front of Nassau Hall.

I had been delayed by an installation of my own, lesser in portent and ceremony, of a spring and gasket set for a leaky kitchen faucet. Though the university installation would surely have been moving, I was moved by a sense of gratitude at the proximity of my home to the Princeton Shopping Center, where one of the Ace Hardware employees had led me to just the right part for one leaky faucet, and suggested flipping over the worn gasket on another. $4 bought me the right part, plus advice on how to fix the other faucet for free. Life's little annoyances just got smaller. (There's a useful concept called the 3/50 Project that helps channel the desire to support local business.)

Another reason for arriving late was that I knew that Eisengruber's speech could be found online. From the deserted bandstand, with a little imagination I could still hear the kettle drums stirring a sense of gravitas and even courage in all who managed to get there on time.

It was less satisfying to imagine the lavish buffet, which had dwindled to a few green apples and the dregs of ice tea.

Fortunately, a chestnut tree grew nearby,

with a few chestnuts to take home, cure for a week and then boil or roast. Even latecomers can reap rewards. The move towards local food at the university has yet to lead to foraging on campus grounds, as I did back in the 70s, when a food workers strike at my college led me to discover the edibility of violets growing outside the dorm.

I finally caught up with the post-installation party at Blair Courtyard. Princeton's reputation for feeding its students very well didn't fit with the extremely long and extremely slow line for food.

Word had it that the pizza and Bent Spoon ice cream were worth the long wait,

and standing in line is a lot easier when the music of Grace Potter and The Nocturnals is floating out over the green.

Potter had a fine protege in the audience. With a daughter just off to college, I was moved to memories by this scene of a proud father filming his daughter from a makeshift seat.