My Electrifying Comeback: A Tale of Fixing Things (and Not Getting Electrocuted)

Written February 10, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

I’ve always had a knack for tinkering with electronics. As a kid, if an appliance went on strike, my parents would sigh, shrug, and hand it over to me. More often than not, I’d manage to breathe life back into it—no manual required, just sheer determination and the reckless confidence of youth. Fixing things just came naturally.

Then came my brain stroke and, with it, my occupational therapist’s stern decree: No power tools. No risky business. No electrocuting yourself, thank you very much. Apparently, the combination of a recovering brain and high-voltage currents wasn’t a match made in heaven. My wife, ever the responsible one, took this warning very seriously and promptly confiscated anything with sharp edges, moving parts, or the potential to zap me into next week.

For a while, she became the household repair technician by default. To her credit, she did an admirable job, though I suspect she didn’t enjoy it nearly as much as I once did. But the brain is a fascinating thing, and my wife, ever the believer in the power of neuroplasticity, gradually reintroduced me to minor electrical repairs—so long as they didn’t involve high-voltage shocks or the possibility of losing a finger. “You can fix things again,” she declared one day, “but only the ones that won’t land you in the ER.” Fair enough.

This week’s test case? Our central vacuum cleaner’s agitator head.

Saturday was a vacuuming day in our house, and I was making my usual rounds when I noticed something was off. The brush inside the vacuum head had stopped spinning, turning it from a useful cleaning device into a glorified floor-scraper. A quick inspection revealed the usual suspect: a broken drive belt.

Fixing it was well within my wheelhouse. I tracked down a replacement online, my wife ordered it, and by early morning, it had arrived, sitting on our porch like a tiny parcel of redemption. A screwdriver, a bit of patience, and voilà—the vacuum was back in business. Naturally, I had to take it for a test run, and I’m happy to report that my repair skills remain intact.

The whole experience sent me spiraling down memory lane. As a kid, my insatiable curiosity often led me to take things apart just to see how they worked. Sometimes, this resulted in brilliant discoveries. Other times… well, let’s just say my parents learned to hide anything they weren’t willing to sacrifice to my “scientific investigations.” More than once, I dismantled something with great enthusiasm, only to realize halfway through that I had no idea how to put it back together.

These days, I’ve acquired a bit more wisdom. I no longer dismantle things I can’t confidently reassemble. But it’s nice to know that, despite everything, my hands still remember the thrill of fixing things—and that my wife hasn’t completely revoked my repair privileges.

For now.

Hot Water To The Solution To Our Sticky Situation

Written October 2, 2024

Hello Dear Readers,

We have been working on our deck for a while. We discovered that the deck preparation required much more work and patience than we initially anticipated. One of the problems we faced was the sap on the deck. We had sap from the maple tree all over the deck in our backyard, and it was a real hassle. My wife, multitasking between work and cleaning, was trying to tackle the sticky mess. The sap stuck to everything, including the tools we were using. While we worked, she mentioned how the sap reminded her of pine resin—the kind she used when playing stringed instruments.

After wrestling with the sap for a while, I reached my breaking point. But our conversation about pine resin gave me an idea. I very briefly played the violin when I was younger, and I remembered that the resin softens with heat. It made me think about how I always warm honey in the winter to make it pliable. I decided to try the same method with the sap. I boiled water using our electric kettle and poured it directly onto the sap.

To my surprise, the boiling water softened the sap right away. I’d expected to have to scrape the sticky stuff afterward, but when I poured the water over the sap-covered boards, it just washed away. There was hardly anything left to scrape! I’ll check the deck again once it’s fully dry, just to make sure the sap doesn’t resolve, but for now, it seems like the hot water did the trick.

It was a pleasant surprise to see how well my plan worked. It’s funny how a bit of knowledge or past experience can spark an idea. I bet there are probably plenty of videos or articles out there on removing sap, but figuring it out on my own gave me a sense of satisfaction that’s hard to beat. I feel like we are pretty ready for painting.

A Twist in Our Pizza Day: Embracing Change and Finding Solutions

 

Written: Nov 26, 2023

Hello,

Today marks another one of our cherished pizza days. However, a little twist cropped up last night. Surprisingly, I realized we had run out of chicken, typically a star topping on our pizza. This prompted a quick brainstorming session to think of suitable alternatives. By morning, I had a few ideas to discuss with my wife. We eventually settled on trying out turkey as a replacement for the day. It might be even more delightful than our usual chicken topping. This unexpected turn of events stems mainly from a recent shift in our regular meal routine.

 

Before our subscription with Hello Fresh, we regularly received our meat supplies from a service known as Butcherbox. However, since we started our journey with Hello Fresh, we’ve put our Butcherbox orders on hold. Hello Fresh conveniently includes the necessary meats in their recipe deliveries, which seemed like a perfect arrangement. Additionally, an impromptu grocery run for eggs, essential for the pumpkin pie we were making, resulted in us missing our usual shopping trip yesterday. While unlikely to happen often, this series of events has taught me an important lesson: to keep a closer watch on our chicken stock.

 

My wife often shares pearls of wisdom with me, one of which is particularly relevant in this scenario. She advises that when presenting a problem, it’s beneficial to have potential solutions ready. This advice initially meant for employees communicating with supervisors, proved invaluable last night. Discovering the absence of chicken, I quickly suggested a few alternatives to my wife. This approach, I’ve realized, is wider than workplace interactions. It’s a versatile strategy that can be applied in various aspects.

The Art of Routine Building Through Mundane Chores Like Cooking

Hello, dear readers,

Today’s post is dedicated to the unexpected but delightful art of routine building through what we often consider mundane chores. Take cooking, for instance—a chore for some, a passion for others. I’ve always had a soft spot for cuisine, an affinity that traces back to my childhood learning to make pancakes with my grandmother. I didn’t realize back then that cooking would later become a tool for optimizing complex, multi-step procedures in life.

The Complexity Behind Simplicity in Cooking

In culinary arts, one of the most essential skills is mastering the alignment of various tasks to be completed simultaneously. Even a simple dish like scrambled eggs or a sandwich requires a calculated sequence of steps, each executed at the perfect time. The difference between a skilled chef and a beginner often boils down to the knack for optimizing this workflow. It’s about knowing what to do, when, and how to do it.

Embracing Reflection: The Japanese Concept of Hansei

One powerful concept I’ve come to rely on for improving my cooking skills is the Japanese practice of Hansei, which involves deep self-reflection after completing a task. The core idea is to analyze performance, understand mistakes, and strategize for future improvement. If you’re repeating a specific recipe, it’s a golden opportunity to employ Hansei. Taste the food, ponder what you like and dislike, and consider why those elements turned out the way they did. The objective is to refine the recipe each time, adapting it to align with your taste preferences.

The Case of Mapo Tofu: A Personal Experience

To provide a real-world example, let me share my experience of making Mapo Tofu, which my wife taught me. When we first tried the dish, we found it too salty despite not adding any table salt. That led to a Hansei moment—time for some culinary detective work. After scrutinizing the ingredients, I switched to reduced-sodium chicken stock instead of the Chinese-style tori gara I had initially used. The change was adequate but not quite enough. I then dived into the sauce ingredients, reducing the quantity of one while substituting it with another, less salty ingredient. And voila! The saltiness issue was resolved, all thanks to the iterative process of self-reflection and adjustment.

Conclusion

Something as ordinary as cooking can be a playground for honing essential life skills like routine-building and problem-solving. It’s a space to practice, to reflect, and most importantly, to improve. So the next time you dread life’s ‘mundane’ chores, perhaps try to approach them as an opportunity to cultivate better routines. You may discover a newfound appreciation for the everyday tasks that make up your world.

Happy cooking and happy reflecting!

Until next time.