Practical problems

The changing of the shower hose has now assumed crisis proportions.

What should have been a simple case of unscrewing the end of the hose from the tap attachment and putting the new one on has filled parts of three long days with increasing frustration and hopelessness.

The trouble is that the bit that should have stayed in the tap, didn’t and I cannot (no matter how I try) get the bit that didn’t stay to leave the bit that has to be replaced.  If you see what I mean.

I have tried brute force and liberal applications of penetrating oil.  Well, I say that, but I don’t really know about the ‘penetrating’ bit, its just oil from a spray can – but I do remember hearing about the ‘penetrating’ bit applied to recalcitrant un-screwable things, so I’m hoping for the best.  Wrong tense there, I have tried to separate the two parts and there was absolutely no movement whatsoever, so perhaps I should have said something like, “I had hoped that the oil would have done the trick, but, alas, I was to be unhappy with the lack of outcome” – that seems complicated enough to mirror the problem!

I have used spanners and wrenches and nothing works.  I went to our local Chinese supermarket and bought things.  And they didn’t work either, so I now have yet more tools that will rest unused in a big plastic toolbox for years to come.

There was a moment’s hope when it appeared that the use of an allen key might be able to be inserted into the tap bit and the purchase gained with a set of pliers might do the trick.  None of the allen keys that I possess was bulky enough so, foolishly I bought a hefty set - and not one of those works either.  The two largest are just too big and just too small to be of any use.

I am beginning to despair.  And I’ve probably paid too much for the completely useless tools that I have bought to try and do the job.

As I live in a rented house and as this is Spain - where no landlord appears to pay for anything, no matter what reason or reasonableness is involved, I am determined not to replace the taps to benefit the rapacious landlords’ future tenants. 

 

The concept of things wearing out and needing to be replaced by the people who actually own the house and who, after all, are getting a substantial rent on a monthly basis, does not apply here.  If it breaks, it appears to be the responsibility of the renter – even if such things are usually covered by the insurance of the house owner e.g. fitments like sinks, baths, toilets.  But what I assumed from the UK does not apply here.  Apparently.

So, a fully justified attempt to deny the landlord a lasting benefit is, it appears, going to cost me more than if I had shelled out the cash for a new set of taps in the first place.

I have not given up entirely.  There must be a shop open (even though this is August and NOTHING HAPPENS in August) with a sympathetic person who has more technical nous than I posses who is willing to take pity on me and use some as yet untired tool and achieve separation.

Saturday is probably not the best day to go around with a woefully winsome expression asking for help.  At this time of the year you are far more likely to get some startled student wondering what the hell you are talking about rather than a competent workperson.  But, as always, I live in hope.

And my failure with the bike spokes is just as complete.

My bike seems to have a penchant for snapping back-wheel spokes.  I have never previously owned a bike where the spokes have broken.  But this one has made up for all of those spoke-solid years by ones breaking on a regular basis.  As I have had to take the bike to the shop to have them replaced, it seemed like a sensible idea to have the raw material (as it were) and do the job myself.  After all, how difficult a job can it be?

The answer, as you will have guessed, is impossible.  At least for me.  

I seem to remember my bike person telling me that he had had to cut them to fit.  So I tried cutting them.  I prefer not to think too closely on the ineptitude of my attempts; I am telling myself that the fret saw I used was the wrong sort – it certainly seemed to blunt its teeth almost instantly.  Disturbingly, the broken one appeared to be the same size as the uncut spokes.  But then there is the problem of fitting them inside the rims. 

 

There is at least a workable solution to this problem and that involves swallowing my pride and taking the bike back to shop, tail between my legs and spokes in my hot little hand and pleading for professionalism.

With both my technical problems, I suspect that there must be a simple solution, but I am buggered if I know what it is.  And part of me doesn’t want to know.

I spent the morning in the library of MNAC in Barcelona looking at the books that they have on Elsheimer.  At least one of them looks ideal for what I want to use in my writing, while most of the others are, not unreasonably, in German - but there are some useful illustrations in them, and there is always Google Translate in extremis!

It was odd getting back into an academic library.  And there is that musty smell that comes with opening old books that you are certain have not been consulted for years!  Heady and depressing at the same time.

I am still in the area of ‘finding out’ about my subject matter and I have not settled on the topic that I want to develop.  But, I’m getting there.  Or at least I’m kidding myself that I am becoming clearer about where I am going.

To go from a life in books in the morning, to one in which I get my hands dirty in the afternoon, is not something that I appreciate. 

 

Perhaps I should.