The New York Times - USA (2020-10-25)

2 MB THE NEW YORK TIMES, SUNDAY, OCTOBER 25, 2020

It was about seven years ago when San-

dra Goldmark’s broken toaster started to

keep her up at night. So did other people’s

toasters. And uncooperative vacuums,

wobbly tables and ripped jeans about to

make their way to the landfill — all of the

detritus of modern life, actually. So the

longtime set designer chatted with some

of her theater buddies and together they

started a repair shop in 2013. This led to

an official business, Fixup; an appoint-

ment as the director of campus sustain-

ability and climate action at Barnard

College; and more recently, the book

“Fixation,” which was published last

month. Although Ms. Goldmark halted

official repair duties this year to promote

her book, the pandemic has inspired her

neighbors — many of whom are suddenly

keenly aware of every object in their

apartments — to seek her out on Sunday

afternoons. They plop their tired arm-

chairs, desk lamps and more in front of

her apartment in Inwood, where she lives

with her husband, Michael Banta,

Barnard’s theater production manager,

47; and their sons, Luke, 12, and Eric, 7.

PAIGE DARRAH

HIS AND HERS COFFEE We use a French press.

A big one for Michael, a little decaf one for

me. Eric likes to push the plungers down on

Sundays. Mine needs to be fixed, actually.

The gasket is torn and starting to spray cof-

fee. We got a broken red Keurig in recently,

and one of our theater fixers, Adam Dowis,

said, “This coffee maker looks like a sports

car on the outside, but you open it and it’s a

Hyundai inside.”

STRANGE TIMESI read for a while and don’t

get out of bed until I feel like it — sometime

between 6:30 and 9:30. Sci-fi isn’t my usual

fare, but these guys love it and I’m trying to

join the club. So I’m reading something

called the Deed of Paksenarrion trilogy.

Frankly, for me now — at least this fall — life

seems to be turning back to normal a bit.

Fingers crossed. In April, Michael and I def-

initely had Covid-19, and the boys com-

plained of headaches for five days. It wasn’t

fun, but it wasn’t awful. Dodged a bullet, I

guess.

NETHERLANDSPractically every morning, I

jog alone through Inwood Hill Park and look

at the ducks and just upload thoughts. After

30 minutes I come back, and Michael does

his Dutch baby — a giant puffy pancake

baked in the oven with a hunk of butter on

the bottom so a nice crust gets burned on.

SOMETHING OLDBy then it’s around noon be-

cause we’re slow. Even though Fixup isn’t

technically open, we wind up fixing Inwood

people’s stuff on Sunday afternoons, which

often requires scavenging tools from the

basement storage unit. Our project table

has been taken over by Zoom screens, so we

use the dining table I bought from my favor-

ite, favorite New York business, AptDeco.

You post a used couch or whatever, then —

here’s the key — AptDeco arranges van

pickup. Like Craigslist except not a huge

pain.

THE HOODI grew up in Park Slope, Brooklyn,

and up until 2005 lived in various New York

neighborhoods where it felt like everyone

was so talented and powerful and success-

ful, which can be exhausting. Inwood feels

agreeably unfashionable — just a little bit

off the wheel. And I guess that’s why the

pop-ups worked; part of the genesis was

our neighborhood exchange of baby Exer-

Saucers. You see everybody at the farmers’

market on Isham Street, the neighbor-

hood’s social nexus. Some of whom always

ask, “When are you coming back?” We have

a couple super fans, so I have to hide a little

bit.

LITTLE BOXESRight before dinner, I’ll have to

write up reflections on sets that my 12

scene-design students fashioned inside

shoe boxes they found in their apartments.

You know, it kind of feelseasy to never get

dressed, but ultimately I miss the transition

of going to work and coming home. I’ve

taught this fall-semester class for 15 years,

typically via a series of Suzan-Lori Parks

plays. It’s about the process of translating a

text into a physical, three-dimensional

response for the stage.

CLOSE QUARTERSAfter dinner, the four of us

pile onto the queen-size bed for Netflix. We

barely fit anymore, and sometimes I find a

residual avocado or something from scav-

enger hunts Eric did for school that week. I

have to make myself stay up till 10. Fairly

recently, I rewatched all of “Friends” in an

unhealthily short period of time. It was in-

tense, and Eric would run away. So, some-

times animated, like “Boss Baby.” Or, the

kids and I love “Queer Eye.” After which the

boys go climb up onto their respective loft

bunk beds Michael built. It’s like they each

have their own little apartment up there.

SUNDAY ROUTINE

SANDRA GOLDMARK

Author, Teacher, Sought-After Mender

PHOTOGRAPHS BY GABBY JONES FOR THE NEW YORK TIMES

Sunday Routine readers can follow Sandra

Goldmark on Twitter @SandraGoldmark.

A repair shop

founder spends the

afternoon fixing her

neighbors’ stuff.

The All-in-One

Resource

for Buying,

Decorating,

Organizing and

Maintaining

Your Space

“Whether you are

renting or buying your

fi rst home or have

owned for years....

Provide[s] the secret

sauce you need

to successfully

navigate the real

estate landscape.”

—BARBARA

CORCORAN

“You can’t get it

wrong with

Right at Home.

Buy it, read it,

and sink into the zen

of an orderly space.”

—JONATHAN

ADLER

.