Fitting the bathtub was not easy at all, because the syphon had to go somewhat into the floor. The hole I left when we were paving it just wasn't enough, so I had to wiggle, scratch my hands and fumble a lot until I got it right. But then it didn't quite hold, not for long, and we'd have a bit of moisture here and there, sometimes even some wetness on the outside wall.
The crapper fit but stood slightly awry, because it stood on its own piece of pipe, which fit into the same type of pipe in the floor, which was, in turn, pushed a millimeter aside when we poured the concrete. A fuckit. The whole set was turksish, poured plastic with ground stone powder, and it turns that the Turks are wee assholes compared to us, the crapper's diameter was below our standard. In the beginning not so much, but after a few years it was getting clogged often.
Fitting the washbasin drain was a different kind of problem (and, likewise, the kitchen sink). The sewage pipe was 40mm, and there was the appropriate piece of gasket which would take the, I guess, 30mm pipe from the syphon. But somehow I couldn't get the two sets of pipes to fit, there was a missing piece which would connect the vertical between the syphon and the pipe coming from above. So I improvised by using a piece of bicycle inner tire. Ditto for the kitchen sink, but this one had the problem on the horizontal piece (and the height wasn't right either). These pieces of rubber held forever.
Studio B put up a transmitter on Goč, but within a couple of days they found some legal catch and forbid the operation of that transmitter.
The heating in the new house was almost completed, these days it was tested. Vlasta with the team was on it, the team being him and his dad, a railroad worker, and a there's-no-bad-swill* alcos, and for the electronics he engaged a young engineer, because he grumfed** the thermoregulation through some thermistors and a single electromagnetic valve, no mesh valve, which was supposed to be turned on when the difference between incoming and returning water falls below 5 degrees or so. Never happened, it heated things up endlessly, until a couple of weeks later he sent this engineer to fit the thermostat - the same old thermostat from our TA heater (as of 2021 still in place, very rarely used, as electric heating is now the third line of defense).
Last year my dad was running out of vessels to transport the rakija. With more of them he'd fit more of the rakija into the car and make fewer trips, the gasoline being hard to find. So he found, at factory discount, edible oil in 10 liter canisters. When the oil was spent, he took the canister to the vineyard, poured some detergent and water in it, and let it stay all day in the sun. Used the warm water to wash his feet at sunset. Repeated this two more times, then for the whole summer and fall kept refilling the canister with just water and kept it in the sun. Since his sense of smell was damaged, he asked me whether it has any smell - none that I found, it was neutral. Then in the fall he poured rakija in it and brought it home. Which happened last fall, and a year later the canister was still not empty, because nobody wanted to drink that rakija. The detergent washed out all traces of oil in the first run, and then the detergent penetrated the plastic. Rinsing it dozens of times did what it could, and then the alcohol dissolved what water could not. He got ten liters of soap rakija, "what you drink to make your butt fart bubbles". There are two ways out of such a situation: redistill, or dissolve in good rakija thinly enough to pass below radar.
There still was a bottle of that left, and when I noticed that the old man at the building site is running out of booze, I got up early before work and took a bottle there. Wrong bottle. There was some confusion, dad's description of what's where was probably strongerly precise. In the afternoon he noticed which bottle was gone, raised a little alarm and okay, before dusk I went to take the right bottle before the guy noticed. Too late. Or rather, right on time - he swiped the bottle, soapie is no more, it's time for the next bottle.
And this is not the first vessel snafu for the merry band of vintners there - one of the neighbors got barrels from Luksol. The cosmetics factory. And no matter how many times you wash, scrub, rinse, again the alcohol will dissolve what nothing else did. "Hey, still got that rakija that makes you fart fragrance?".
BTW, by first counting, SPS falls. They got 118 seats while the opposition got 128, the rest to 250 going to some minority parties. During the day some Democratic Party of Albanians appears suddenly with 3 seats, SPS jumps to 121 seat. The usual fudging with the south, where nothing can be controlled nor checked. During the day it went up to 126 for SPS vs 120 for DS+DSS+SRS+DEPOS.
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* there's a saying about those who'd drink anything: "for a good pig, there's no bad swill"
** v. Alan Ford
17-X-2020 - 11-XI-2025