Covid Quarantine Kiwi Day 8

An ambush of avians and a hobbit does battle with hardware.

No bagpiper this morning. Nor has Smudge Friday been using the portal. I think she’s onto me being onto her.

Whiteboard day 8

She did, however, lay a cunning ambush for the fig-foraging avians. This is the view out my bedroom window (pardon the blur). To the left is the fig tree and in the bottom right-hand corner, if you squint a bit, is the wee hairy trapper in action. I think they’re supposed to fly into her mouth or something. Not sure if any of the birds actually got the memo. Here’s something that keeps us amused – she hasn’t clicked onto the fact we have a driveway alarm, and every time she wanders up the driveway, she sets it off. Then we go out and call her back. She ends up walking back, looking all befuddled about how we know what she’s up to. Rinse and repeat. Bwahahaha.

Smudge in ambush

Today’s mission was to install all the hardware I’ve had sitting around. Being a hobbit, I’m never quite tall enough to reach comfortably with my screwdriver. Then when I stand on something, I’m too tall and have to do it with a crick in my neck. Dear Universe: just another four inches of leg would have been nice. And while we’re on the subject, what’s with putting the tall people in front of me every time I go to the movies?? Yeah, real funny.

Hardware 1
Portrait of a rather nicely placed piece of hardware. It may mean nothing to you, but when I want to hook my door back to stop it slamming in the wind, I don’t have to manoeuvre large blocks of wood around to do the trick any more. It’s in the small things.
Hardware 2

The operating theatre, with the assistant having smoko in the background.

Surgery table

Oh, and I also put contact film on the glass doors to help strengthen the glass a little bit. Don’t judge, it was my first time. What a bluddy performance! It’s like playing with flypaper! Of course, I ran out of the very expensive contact film way before I could complete the job. But at $20 a roll, I need to apply for a loan before I can finish the job, then wait until Lockdown is over to go and throw that money at some more rolls. The quarantine conundrum. Both sets of French doors have old, thinner glass in them, so I’m trying to come up with ways to make them a bit safer with what I have around me. The perfect opportunity for some Kiwi ingenuity. I’ll think of something.

Broken glass door

The thing with a lot of the hardware is, there’s a rolling door between the two sheds. So when the door is closed, the French doors hook onto one place, then when it’s open, they hook onto a different place. This is my punishment for using scrounged up joinery to put in the sheds, and getting doors that all interfere with each other. However, there is now a system in place and all is right with the world.


Being able to roll the door back makes for a nice little secret garden area out behind the sheds. It just adds that je ne sais quoi pas to the whole setup, don’tcha think?

Outside door open

Ze doors closed and ze wind blocked, along with ze mess I was making today.

Oustide door closed

After that, because my life is that riveting, I peeled stickers off the back of the door and here’s a picture of it. Yes, I can hear you quivering with excitement about it all. These doors used to be in a school. Can you tell?

Scraping with fingers

More stickers. More excitement. Try to contain yourselves.

Sticker scraping

Oh, and here’s a handy hint: If you happen to be in the market for a window scraper, don’t buy a cheap one. Like I did. Because I’m Scottish. And it always blows back on me, my miserliness. I’ll learn one day. Yessir I will. Oooh look, a bargain…

Crappy scraper

Finally now, I can employ some of the hardware I installed to lock my doors. Ain’t no sucker going to get into this one!!

Sand Quentin padlock

The other padlock – a scorpion. Complete with a hobbit-infused bugger-off-and-get-your-own-stuff spell. Part of a collection I hauled back from India in 2005. I literally got kicked out of India after the security lady at the airport got sick of me beeping every time she scanned me, ‘cos I wore lots of pocketed clothing and stuffed every nook and cranny possible with metal stuff to avoid my luggage being overweight. Her final words were “Oh my God, get out!!!” I thought about asking her which god, as there are thousands in India, but then I thought the better of it and scarpered. It’s taken a decade or so, but I knew this stuff would come in handy one day.

Scorion padlock

And finally, at the day’s end, this is why the swingseat is parked on the deck where it is – so I can watch the moon rise. What a loverly way to end the day. Along with wine, naturally.

Half moon

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