This is a man whose home repair skills involved sussing out where to drill a hole by lowering an alarm clock into the wall on a string…which then broke.
Do you want every member of the household dead of carbon monoxide poisoning? Because that’s what’ll happen if this guy gets near a bucket of spackle.
Home wiring and electrically-powered devices give off EMF. I wonder if wiring and electrical devices very near to the clock are keeping the batteries charged.
That would not make me a happy man. I had a cadre of squirrels in the attic and it almost drove me insane until I paid a ridiculous quantity of money to have them humanely removed. I couldn’t imagine doing it myself.
"My grandfather’s clock was too tall for the shelf
So it stood ninety years on the floor
It was taller by half than the old man himself
But it weighed not a pennyweight more
It was bought on the morn on the day that he was born
It was always his treasure and pride
But it stopped, short, never to go again
When the old man died
Ninety years without slumbering
Tic toc tic toc
His life’s seconds numbering
Tic toc tic toc
It stopped, short, never to go again
When the old man died.
In watching its pendulum swing to and fro
Many hours he had spent when a boy
And through childhood and manhood, the clock seemed to know
And to share both his grief and his joy
For it struck 24 when he entered at the door
With a blooming and beautiful bride,
But it stopped, short, never to go again
When the old man died
[quote=“AcerPlatanoides, post:10, topic:102908, full:true”]I also have to admit, I do not understand the original plan where he lowered his alarm clock into the wall for any purpose other than to lose it, in the first place.
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Also, perfect opportunity missed to find the corpse, stash of pre-war money, hell…even a cache of Playboys.
Or maybe some dank carpet.
In grade school approximately 50 years ago I acquired a small 3.5” x 2.25” Channel Master (6 Transistor) portable radio. [Model 6474, Channel Master Corp.] As one of my farm duties was cow milking, I accidentally drop the transistor radio in a pail of milk. Thinking it couldn’t make things any worse, I took it in the house and rinsed the insides with water and set it out to dry. Amazingly it continued to work. Amazingly, it resurfaced during cleaning out the parent’s house. With a new battery it still has signs of life and if jiggled just right, will still pick up a station or two.
More recently we also had a stopwatch that came with a board game. I forget I had placed it in my pants pocket and ran it through the washing machine. Again, I decided to open it up, rinse it off with water and dry it with a hair drier. It continued working. While somethings seem to break for no reason, other things seem to keep working for no reason.
one of my hats is inspecting buildings for hazmat. I punch holes in and look behind wall all the time. The most interesting things back there, invariably, are the wrappers from the carpenters lunches and their old soda cans. *(as there isnt much else there) Sometimes I can date a renovation by variety of soda and can style. I find old pull top cans of TAB far far more often than makes any sense to me.
There’s a good eastwing hammer in the wall cavity of my first house. By the time we realized it was missing we had closed a lot of wall and it wasn’t economic to go back for it.