In the last episode of King Fu Plumber he whipped out his trusty "tool with no name" -- that $12 thing that allows you to remove fittings from the inside. Wow, now THAT''S specialized. Later this weekend Michael was down in the basement, and when he came back up from the holds he reported, "Dude, we got a lot of tools".
These two things got me thinking a lot about tools. Fetish objects,
bundles of loaded memory, coveted gadets. My father always taught me
it's a lot easier (and exceedingly important) to use the right tool.
On a camping trip with a few of my gear-head frineds, we somehow got on the subject of "kit" and how there was a kit for just about any actvity. Cycling, camping, skiing, backpacking, and kayaking all require kit. We joked about what does and doesn't make for good kit for the rest of the trip. In essence it boils down to this: kit is the minimum number of things to cover a given situation without having taken too much. It's an art form. Never excessive, always just right.
Same thing holds true around the house. I have this bright orange bucket that I use to load the kit for the task at hand before slogging up whatever set of stairs separates me from the job. This for the most part works great, but here's the rub: in order to make the chiseiling kit or the plumber's or whatever, you gotta have the makings of ALL kits. Which, by definition, is bad kit.
What's the critical tool in my house kit? I first gravitated to the shop vac mostly because I like it (even though it doesn't fit in the bucket). but the truth is something simple like a tape measure is always part of the kit.
Then I went to favortie tool. Could be the bisquit joiner. Could be a couple of old chisels. Couldn't really single one out and make it stick up above all others. There it is again -- kit. The elegance of combining tools for a given situation matters more than any one element.
when we first started working the the house all of the work we did together. most because the job needed two people to manage it and others because we both wanted to be there to see whatever it was the other was attempting. that was a lot of tasks ago.
we've been noticing an interesting phenomena as of late. i'm not sure if it's because the nature of finishing work is excessively labor intensive with a need for focused precision or if we just developed a leaner working style. the new way goes something like this; we white board out what jobs need to get done on a certain day. we consult back and forth as how to do them. then, we divide and concur. periodically we call the other over for a consult or to lend the odd hand but, for the most part , we work alone.
the new way means a few things 1) there is no one standing waiting to take a turn at the task at hand 2) the [oh let's call it...] friction that we sometimes encounter working closely together at manual labor for hours on end just hasn't been [as much of] a problem lately. 3) we were able to knock back a mountain of tasks over the last few weeks much quicker
there's will always be two person tasks. right not however, it's been a real zen treat to really zone in solo to the task at hand.
as you may have noticed from previous post we've adopted a bit of the 3R (reduce, reuse, recycle) attitude toward the house. taking things old from one place and using them new again in others. (we have big plans for the tin ceiling we "harvested" from under the drop ceiling on the first floor).
here's the hitch. construction sites make garbage, demolition multiplies that exponentially. there is no way to not throw tons (and I don't exaggerate) of debris away. building little fires out of the clear wood will only get us so far. we have bundle upon bundle of old oak flooring tied up in the backyard. it's too good to throw away but we have no idea where to use it.
on a like note, what to do with the rarified building materials (I'm looking at you big pink insulation plank) that are still good but not likely to ever be used? I feel like we're becoming a home for wayward building supplies. not to mention the whole ethos of getting rid of hazardous materials.
I struggle. when we got into the whole home reno thing I never thought about the large percentage of work that is procurment and disposal. buy crap and get rid of crap. rinse and repeat.
we hired some demo guys to come haul away the debris we made in demoing the first floor. it was the best $300 I ever spent. we called them on a sunday afternoon, and they were there within a couple of hours (yes New York is good for some things). they hauled away all but the most choice 3R bits.
and now our backyard is filled with debris again!
the entire time I have been typng this post michael has been yammering about this idea or the other for how we can use all the reclaimed wood. so we are still trying to stick to our guns. but I pledge you this -- once everything is done the rest is going. of couse as I make that statement I think about the three principles of wabi sabi:
All things are impermanent All things are imperfect All things are incomplete
got kit?
In the last episode of King Fu Plumber he whipped out his trusty "tool with no name" -- that $12 thing that allows you to remove fittings from the inside. Wow, now THAT''S specialized. Later this weekend Michael was down in the basement, and when he came back up from the holds he reported, "Dude, we got a lot of tools".
These two things got me thinking a lot about tools. Fetish objects, bundles of loaded memory, coveted gadets. My father always taught me it's a lot easier (and exceedingly important) to use the right tool.
On a camping trip with a few of my gear-head frineds, we somehow got on the subject of "kit" and how there was a kit for just about any actvity. Cycling, camping, skiing, backpacking, and kayaking all require kit. We joked about what does and doesn't make for good kit for the rest of the trip. In essence it boils down to this: kit is the minimum number of things to cover a given situation without having taken too much. It's an art form. Never excessive, always just right.
What's the critical tool in my house kit? I first gravitated to the shop vac mostly because I like it (even though it doesn't fit in the bucket). but the truth is something simple like a tape measure is always part of the kit.
Then I went to favortie tool. Could be the bisquit joiner. Could be a couple of old chisels. Couldn't really single one out and make it stick up above all others. There it is again -- kit. The elegance of combining tools for a given situation matters more than any one element.
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