Saturday, August 15, 2015
cracks in the seat
I have commented before that the architect-contractor who built my house (as her dream house) put a lot of quality into the place.
That praise does not apply to her choice of toilets.
To be fair, the toilets are fine. They are those water-saving toilets with the choice of flushes -- made in China. The porcelain is good quality.
Not so the seats. They are plastic -- almost translucent in their thinness. The type of seats that may be functional for a stage play or a television situation comedy. But not for real people who have serious business to do.
When I moved in, one of the seats (in the upstairs utility room) was already broken. Within a week, the seat in my bathroom cracked, as well.
I was fortunate to have my brother in attendance during that week. So, we jumped in the Escape, drove to Home Depot in Manzanillo (where we picked out two wooden seats), and headed home.
What we had not anticipated was how the Chinese fastened the seats to their toilets. Because the toilets are almost sculptural, all of the bolts are hidden inside the back of the pedestal. (We discovered that with a quick internet search -- an information that is turning into the fabled tree of the knowledge of good and evil.)
With the help of my friend Lou, we managed to get both of the new seats installed. I had hoped to replace all six seats in the house, but we had purchased Home Depot's entire inventory -- two.
This week two more seats broke -- in the guest room and the pool bathroom. With Leo arriving today, there was no time to waste. Off I went to Home Depot. Once again, there were only two wooden toilet seats available.
I managed to install the first one (in the pool bathroom) on my own. And that was a sense of accomplishment. As I have said before, I am not known for my handyman capabilities.
But the space in the guest bathroom would not allow me to hold the seat bolts in place while I tightened them with a screwdriver. So, I had to call on the assistance of a Mexican friend. And I was happy to share the sense of a job well done. My Dad would have been proud of me.
With that, and a bit of work Dora will do this morning to spiff up the guest room, the house is ready to welcome Leo -- and any other guests who are willing to make the journey to see enjoy the sybaritic pleasures of the house with no name.
No name, perhaps. But with plenty of spiffy new toilet seats.