brainwagon

When cleaning the garage a while back, we discovered our old pink “Fight Breast Cancer” edition Roomba. For some reason, we had put it away and hadn’t been using it for years. The battery pack was dead, but a quick order on Amazon had returned it to working order. It happily scurries around the living room, generally making the carpet look a little nicer, and providing some entertainment (or is it anxiety?) for the cats.

But using it in our dining room was a bit problematic. The dining room is about 4″ higher than the living room, separated only by a small step. This old Roomba seems to not have a sufficient sensor package to detect this, and will gleefully head over the cliff, usually getting high-centered as a result and unable to continue. To combat this, Carmen had an elaborate if bulky system of empty cardboard boxes that she could deploy.

But they were big, and bulky. And ugly.

I came home the other day and noted that she had purloined a strip of 1/4″ plywood from my shop. It was roughly 48″ x 10″. She placed it up against the drop off, merely holding it in place with one of the many shoes that we have in our rack in the nearby hall made the Roomba turn away.

She asked if I could make some more.

Well, as it happens, yes I can. Because my shop is (reasonably) ordered now. I was pretty sure I could make some additional strips to match this original one, and span the 10 feet or so of space of this drop off.

I headed toward the garage. Do I have some more 1/4″ ply? But as I am walking through the hall to the garage, I stare over at the side where a picture frame and some leftover Pergo strips have been sitting for years.

And a piece of 1/4″ hardboard.

Nice! I go into the shop with the 1/4″ board, don’t even bother measuring. Just set the rip fence on my little table saw to duplicate the whip, and quickly take off two 48″ strips.

Carmen was watching me, and as I take off my safety glasses begins to talk about how we might store them. I glanced over at my drill press, where a 1 1/2″ hole saw is still chucked after my experiment with creating dollies for the bottom of storage shelf.

Three minutes later, each of the segments has a nice, finger friendly hole in the corner so we can hang these pieces on a hook in the closet when they are not needed.

This is a dumb project. Perhaps even pointless. But I am taking pleasure in the notion that something which is this simple and dumb could be accomplished so simply and with so little planning.

It’s why I am interested in getting my shop organized in the first place.