Vicky Goes On (Again)

Tag: DIY

  • More DIY and a mild breakdown (Through the Keyhole)

    Through the escutcheon

    I was supposed to really sort my bedroom out this weekend.

    Reader, I did not.

    My flatmate sorted his out and bragged to me about it. My flatmate is a tosser.

    I did learn that the metal bit surrounding a keyhole is called an escutcheon so who’s the real winner here? That’s right, me. I also learned that whoever fitted the keyhole, lock, and escutcheon on my flat door was a lunatic since they made the hole far too big for the escutcheon to be screwed into the door. I have therefore spent far too long putting Polyfilla in the hole and using a chopstick to ensure that the key can still go into the keyhole and then doing all of that all over again because I hadn’t allowed the Polyfilla to completely dry.

    What I’m saying is is that although I did not “do my room” I did do things. Because I am a procrastinator. I know, we all are nowadays. With our ADHD and neurodivergence but sometimes this comes in handy. When else am I going to fix a keyhole **escutcheon**? And look at my skills with a chopstick and Polyfilla! Fall on your knees in praise at my resourcefulness. I’m a goddamn Renaissance man. Woman. PERSON.

    Anyway, the keyhole is still not actually fixed but that is by the by. The bedroom is still a right state, but I’ll get to it later. Later. I’m off to do the washing up.

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    P.S. When are the things actually done? Is it not true that there is always fucking something? Look, pardon my actual French but I am suddenly overwhelmed with anger about the fact that everything needs doing all of the time. When can we just be done!? OK, when we’re dead but then other people need to do an awful lot of things then too. I need a lie down.

  • Washing machines live longer with Vicky

    I’ve become a plumber.
    I haven’t retrained or anything but just call me Mario. My washing machine was being a bitch and I fixed it. And I only googled it twice.
    In my adult life I have become very aware that I am a practical person and I could be really proud of that but I am not. All this proves to me is, gurl I’m poor. When I first had a flatmate she thought that her lamp was broken. I asked, you’ve changed the bulb? (she gave me a look but you gotta start simple. My dad used to be a breakdown/rescue driver (had a truck. You know, can’t start your car? My dad will come pick it up or get it running again) and the number of times the solution was the customer needed fuel is astounding. Anyway, she had so good for her. I said, OK then maybe it’s the fuse.

    It was the fuse and I saved her from throwing out her lamp. And she has learned that fuses can blow and how to change them. Go us! I must add here, in her defence, when I was a kid electrical items were sold without plugs (because I’m from the Victorian Times? What? Why was this a thing?) so my dad taught me how to wire a plug. None of this makes sense. But I do have a skill.

    And what’s lamps got to do with plumbing? I’m getting there.
    I have a different flatmate. After years of living alone the solo dream is over and I now live in a nice flat. But the nice flat has a washing machine that decided it didn’t want to work. Well, guess what washing machine? I don’t want to work either but here we are. Anyway, it wouldn’t spin or drain and had clothes in it and WHAT THE HELL, MAN? I rang my brother and managed to drain, spin, and open the machine so OK great. But then this piece of shit wants to fill with water for no reason. Well. I refuse to back down to a machine.

    Anyway, I fixed it. It’s fixed. I’m a plumber. It’s all good. So, what I’m saying is: fixable things can be fixed by you. Yes, YOU. You can do it. If it’s fixable try to fix it yourself. Nowadays you don’t even need a Hayne’s Manual you can just google it and watch YouTube videos. See, the internet can be helpful still.