I fixed my wooden folding chair this morning; it took me four minutes to pull out the broken screw, find a replacement screw, and put it in. That chair was out of commission for at least a year before I fixed it.
Last week we had a trip to the ER that should be written up in the Annals of Monkey Fun. Architects just never think of hyperactive two-year-olds when they design buildings. Or parking ramps. Everyone is more or less fine now, including the actual patient. The next day, I planned for a slower day, but somehow I managed to finish cobbling together a dust mop from an old carpet sweeper handle (very nice birdseye maple), a piece of leftover plexiglass, a sleeve from an old sweater, a metal bracket, and a couple of screws and nuts. Making it meant solving my way through a small series of technical puzzles, but it all came together nicely. The finished dust mop swivels almost enough, and it is fun to use for quick sweep-ups. Dorothy Sayers said in Mind of the Maker that detective stories are relaxing because they present limited, soluble problems, instead of the impossible large real-world problems that we can do very little about.
I also quieted down a couple of our battery-operated toys by opening them up, popping out the speakers, and putting a circle or two of old cotton sweater between each speaker and the holes where the sounds come out. Then I put the speakers back and closed them back up. There is a branch of hobby electronics called circuit bending, where you take circuits from things like electronic toys and try to make them do new things, but I have not gone quite that far yet.
I have a cast-iron dutch oven with burned-on food that I am going to scour out with sand this afternoon. The sand is coming from a small year-old beach sand spill in the basement.
Since foam egg cartons have reappeared in the supermarket, I have been saving them for craft purposes. We cut out the cups, string them on yarn, and hang them from the dining room light fixture. The only thing was that I had to switch to a smaller yarn needle, so that the cups would hang in place spaced apart, and not all slide down to the end of the yarn.