Here's the prompt we got — it's a practical one. What should actually be in your toolbox and your hardware cabinet when you're renovating a place you just moved into, whether it's a rental or a purchase? We're talking about fixing all the stuff that's never in good condition when you arrive — loose cabinet hinges, sticky doors, dripping taps, wobbly shelves, holes in walls, dead lightbulbs in awkward fittings, the lot. The idea is to walk through the toolbox tier first, the tools every adult should own, then the hardware cabinet tier, the consumables and small parts. And specifically, give the Hebrew names and tell people where to actually buy these things in Israel, whether that's Ace, or the small ironmongers in the shuk, or AliExpress for the cheap bits. Keep it grounded, keep it budget-aware, and focus on what you genuinely need versus what's overkill for a rental. So Herman, where do we start?
I love this. This is the kind of episode where we're actually saving people money and preventing the four-trips-to-the-hardware-store-in-one-afternoon spiral. And I want to start with a principle before we even get to the list — buy the toolbox and the hardware cabinet before you need them. The day you move in, you want that stuff already in the apartment. Not after you've discovered the kitchen cabinet is hanging by one screw and it's eight o'clock at night and everything's closed.
The voice of experience.
The voice of someone who once tried to tighten a toilet seat with a butter knife. But the principle holds — the move-in toolkit is something you buy once, ideally before you even get the keys. And the good news is, for about four hundred to six hundred shekels, you can cover the toolbox tier comfortably, and maybe another two hundred to three hundred for the hardware cabinet. That's your total outlay, and it'll handle maybe eighty percent of what you'll encounter.
Which is a lot cheaper than calling a handyman every time a door sticks.
A handyman in Israel is going to charge you at least two hundred shekels just to show up, before they've done anything. So if you fix three things yourself, the toolkit pays for itself. Let's start with the toolbox tier, broken into two sub-tiers — the non-negotiable core, and the nice-to-haves you add over time.
Lay it out.
Core number one — a hammer. In Hebrew, patish. You want a standard claw hammer, around sixteen ounces, about four hundred and fifty grams. The claw side is for pulling nails and, realistically, for prying things you probably shouldn't pry. Don't get a tiny tack hammer, don't get a sledgehammer. Just a basic claw hammer with a fiberglass or rubber grip handle. In Israel, you can get a perfectly decent one at Ace for about forty to sixty shekels. The store brand is fine — you don't need a Stanley FatMax for hanging pictures.
The Hebrew name is patish. Same word used for the hammer in a courtroom or an auction.
Core number two — a screwdriver set. In Hebrew, mavreg, and a set is a set mavregim. You want both flathead and Phillips head, at least three sizes of each. Get a set that comes in a little case or a rack, because if you just buy loose screwdrivers, you will lose the small one within forty-eight hours. It's a law of physics. Ace has sets for around sixty to eighty shekels. Look for something with comfortable handles — hard plastic handles will chew up your palms.
I'd add a stubby screwdriver — mavreg katzar — for tight spaces inside cabinets.
Especially for kitchen cabinets, where the hinge screws are always in a position designed by someone who hates you. Core number three — an adjustable spanner. In Hebrew, shvedi, which literally means Swedish. Nobody knows why. It's just what everyone calls it.
The Swedes got famous for one tool and now they own the word. That's branding.
You want a six-inch or eight-inch. This is for plumbing — tightening tap connectors, loosening nuts under the sink, anything with a hex fitting. Don't use it as a hammer, even though you will be tempted. About thirty to fifty shekels. Core number four — a tape measure. In Hebrew, seret mida. Get a five-meter one, the standard. The key feature is the locking mechanism — you want one that locks firmly and doesn't slowly retract while you're measuring. Nothing more infuriating.
The slow retraction is the physical manifestation of entropy.
You're standing there, the tape creeping back into the housing, losing your mind. Spend the extra ten shekels for a decent one. Core number five — a utility knife. In Hebrew, sakum. The retractable kind with snap-off blades. You'll use it for opening boxes, cutting carpet, trimming things, scoring drywall. It's one of those tools that doesn't feel essential until you own one, and then you use it constantly. About twenty shekels.
Buy extra blades when you buy the knife. The dull blade is the dangerous blade.
A pack of replacement blades is maybe fifteen shekels and lasts years. Core number six — pliers. In Hebrew, pliyer, borrowed from English. You want combination pliers, sometimes called lineman's pliers. They grip, they cut wire, they twist. If you're doing any electrical work, even just swapping a plug, you need these. About forty to fifty shekels.
I'd add needle-nose pliers — pliyer af chad — for reaching into tight spots. Not core-core, but close.
Core number seven — a spirit level. In Hebrew, peleh, which also means a wonder or a miracle, which I find charming. A perfectly straight line is a miracle. Get a standard forty-centimeter level, about sixteen inches. You need this for shelves, pictures, curtain rods — anything where crookedness will stare at you every day. About thirty to forty shekels.
The small torpedo level is handy too, but the forty-centimeter is the workhorse.
Core number eight — a cordless drill. In Hebrew, makdeha, or sometimes just drill. This is where the budget jumps. A decent cordless drill is going to run you two hundred to three hundred shekels for a basic model. You want variable speed and a keyless chuck, so you can tighten the bit by hand rather than needing a separate key that you will immediately lose. The battery should be lithium-ion, not nickel-cadmium. Lithium-ion holds charge when sitting on a shelf, which matters because your drill will sit unused most of the time, and you want it to work when you pick it up three months later.
This is the one tool where I think you shouldn't go for the absolute cheapest option. A bad drill makes every job miserable.
If you're going to splurge anywhere, splurge on the drill. A Bosch or Makita entry-level model will serve you for a decade. If you're really on a budget, the store brands at Ace or Home Center are fine for light use, but the battery quality is where they cut corners. And get a set of drill bits — makdehim — and a set of screwdriver bits for the drill. Using the drill as a power screwdriver is transformative when you're assembling furniture or driving long screws into wall plugs.
The first time you drive a three-inch screw with a drill instead of a manual screwdriver, you feel like you've been living in the dark ages.
Okay, those are the core eight — hammer, screwdriver set, adjustable spanner, tape measure, utility knife, pliers, level, cordless drill. With those, you can handle maybe seventy percent of what a new apartment throws at you. Now let's talk about the nice-to-haves, the tools you add over the first year as specific needs arise.
Before we do, I want to talk about where to actually buy these in Israel. Because the prompt specifically asked, and the options are different from the States.
At the top, you've got Ace Hardware — the most accessible chain, everywhere, decent range, staff usually know what they're talking about, prices fair. Home Center is another option, slightly more home-decor focused but they carry tools. Then you've got the independent ironmongers — chanuyot barzel, literally "iron shops," or sometimes chanuyat tivua. These are the small, slightly chaotic shops in older neighborhoods and shuk areas. They're often cheaper than Ace for basic items, and the person behind the counter has usually been doing this for thirty years and knows exactly what screw you need just from you holding up your fingers to indicate the length.
The finger-calipers method.
You walk in, hold up your thumb and forefinger about two centimeters apart, they nod, disappear into the back, and come back with exactly the right thing. Then you've got the building supply yards — chomerim or chomeri binyan. Larger, more industrial, on the outskirts of cities. Where contractors shop. If you need bulk materials — cement, plywood, plumbing pipe — this is where you go. Not for a single screwdriver.
Then there's AliExpress. A whole category unto itself.
AliExpress is the wildcard. For non-urgent items, the prices are absurdly low. A set of screwdriver bits that costs sixty shekels at Ace might be eight shekels on AliExpress. The trade-off is shipping time — two to four weeks — and quality variability. My rule of thumb: AliExpress is great for consumables and simple items where failure isn't dangerous. Sandpaper, zip ties, heat-shrink tubing, small clamps, felt pads for furniture legs. I would not buy a drill or a hammer there. But for the hardware cabinet items we're about to discuss, it's very useful.
The Israeli customs threshold is seventy-five dollars, so for small orders you won't get hit with import duties. Keep your orders under that.
Good practical point. So let's move to the hardware cabinet tier. This is the stuff that lives in a small set of drawers or a plastic organizer, and it's what you reach for when the tool is in your hand but you need the thing to attach or apply or fill or seal.
The hardware cabinet is the unsung hero. The toolbox gets all the glory, but without the cabinet, you're just holding a drill and staring at a hole in the wall.
Item one — assorted screws. In Hebrew, bragim. You want a compartment box with a variety: wood screws from about fifteen millimeters up to forty millimeters, and machine screws for metal fittings. Get both flathead and Phillips. A mixed set costs about thirty to fifty shekels at Ace. The key is to have them before you need them, because the one screw that fell out of the cabinet hinge is going to be a weird size.
Keep the original screws from anything you disassemble. Old screws are often better quality than new ones.
The metallurgy on older screws is often superior to the soft metal you get in bulk packs now. Item two — wall plugs, or anchors. In Hebrew, shtekrim, borrowed from German, or sometimes simply plugim. You want a variety pack with different sizes — the color coding is standard: yellow for small screws, red for medium, blue or brown for heavy loads. If you're hanging anything heavier than a picture frame on a plaster or drywall wall, you need these. The wall will not hold a screw on its own.
In Israeli apartments, you never know what's behind the plaster. Could be concrete block, could be hollow brick, could be the accumulated hopes of previous tenants. The shteker is your insurance policy.
If you're drilling into actual concrete, you need a masonry drill bit — makdeh lebeton — and a different kind of anchor called a betonit. But for most rental situations, the standard plastic shteker is sufficient. Item three — picture hooks. In Hebrew, vavei tmunot. Little brass hooks with a nail already fitted at an angle. A pack of twenty costs maybe fifteen shekels. You'll use them constantly.
The cheap ones are worse — the nail bends if you look at it wrong. Get the slightly better ones.
Item four — sandpaper. In Hebrew, neyar letesh, or just sandpaper with a Hebrew accent. You want a variety pack with different grits — coarse, maybe eighty grit, medium at one-twenty, fine at two-twenty. You'll use this for smoothing rough edges on doors, prepping surfaces for paint or filler, and removing the mysterious sticky residue that previous tenants always leave behind.
The mysterious sticky residue is a universal constant. Every rental, every country, every era. The residue abides.
Item five — electrical tape. In Hebrew, seret izolatsia, insulation tape. For wrapping exposed wires, marking things, and emergency fixes. A roll is about five shekels. Get black — it's the standard for a reason. Item six — PTFE tape. In Hebrew, seret teflon, Teflon tape. The white, non-sticky tape you wrap around pipe threads before connecting them. If you're doing anything with plumbing, you need this. Without it, threaded joints will drip. About eight shekels a roll and one roll lasts approximately forever.
The plumbing aisle is where you discover that every fitting in your apartment is a slightly different standard from every other fitting, because Israeli plumbing is a historical archive of incompatible decisions.
Israeli plumbing is a museum of bad choices. Item seven — silicone sealant. In Hebrew, silikon. You want a tube of white or transparent silicone for sealing gaps around sinks, bathtubs, and countertops. The tube itself is about twenty-five to thirty shekels, but you also need a caulking gun — ekedat silikon — which is another twenty shekels. Watch a thirty-second video on how to apply it smoothly. The trick is to tool the bead with a wet finger immediately after applying.
The wet finger is the difference between a professional-looking seal and something that looks like a toddler decorated a cake.
Item eight — wood filler. In Hebrew, merak etz, which literally means wood soup, and I find that delightful. For filling holes and gouges in wooden surfaces — door frames, cabinet faces, furniture. It comes in a tube or a small tub, dries hard, and can be sanded and painted. About twenty shekels.
I'm going to think about that every time I use it now.
Item nine — touch-up paint. In Hebrew, tzva letikunim. After you move in, you'll notice scrapes and chips in the walls. If you're in a rental, ask the landlord if they have the original paint — often they do, in a forgotten corner of the storage closet. If not, take a small chip to a paint store and they'll color-match it. A small sample pot costs about twenty shekels. Touch up the obvious spots and the place instantly looks better maintained.
If you're a renter, this is the difference between getting your security deposit back and having the landlord claim the entire wall needs repainting.
Item ten — zip ties. In Hebrew, kvelasim, from the English "cables," or sometimes just zip ties. A pack of assorted sizes is about fifteen shekels. You'll use them for cable management, temporary fixes, and about a hundred other things.
Zip ties and duct tape. The two pillars of improvisational engineering. We haven't mentioned duct tape — that should be in the cabinet too.
You're right. Duct tape — in Hebrew, seret hadbaka chazak, "strong adhesive tape," or sometimes just duct tape. A roll is about twenty shekels. It's not a permanent solution for anything, but it's a temporary solution for almost everything. And in a rental, temporary is often all you need.
The landlord's permanent problem, your temporary fix.
Now, I want to zoom out and talk about the philosophy of the rental toolkit versus the homeowner toolkit, because they're different. The prompt asked about this distinction, and it's worth addressing directly.
Because a lot of people approach their first rental like they're preparing for a full renovation, and they end up with tools they never use.
That's exactly the trap. In a rental, your goal is not to improve the property — it's to make it livable and to protect your deposit. That means your toolkit is oriented toward fixes, not upgrades. You're tightening, adjusting, filling, sealing. You're not knocking down walls or replacing flooring. So the heavy-duty tools — a circular saw, an angle grinder, a rotary hammer — those are overkill. What you need is the core eight tools we listed, plus the hardware cabinet, and maybe one or two specialty items depending on the apartment.
The one specialty item I'd add for rentals is a door plane. In Hebrew, miktzeva. If you've got a door that sticks, which is incredibly common in Israeli apartments where the wood has swollen in the humidity, a small hand plane is much faster and more precise than sanding. About sixty shekels at Ace.
Another rental-specific item is adhesive felt pads for furniture legs. In Hebrew, ragliyot levad, or just "felt pads." If you've got tile floors, which most Israeli apartments do, dragging a chair across them sounds like a dinosaur screaming. Felt pads eliminate that entirely. About ten shekels for a sheet.
The dinosaur scream is the sound of your downstairs neighbor deciding they hate you.
Now, if you've bought a place, the calculus changes. You're investing in the property, and you're likely to take on more ambitious projects. In that case, I'd add a few tools. A jigsaw — masor chishmal — is the first power tool I'd get beyond the drill. It lets you cut curves and shapes in wood, which comes up surprisingly often. About two hundred to three hundred shekels for a decent one.
A stud finder. In Hebrew, meater kirot, literally a wall locator. Israeli walls are unpredictable — concrete, hollow block, plaster over brick, occasionally just mystery. A stud finder tells you where the solid bits are before you drill.
About eighty shekels and worth every agora. I'd also add a socket set — set meftachot, or sometimes just soketim. For anything with nuts and bolts, a socket set is vastly superior to an adjustable spanner. A basic set with a ratchet handle and common sizes — eight to nineteen millimeters — is about a hundred shekels.
This is where the storage question comes in. All these tools need to live somewhere.
The storage solution is part of the toolkit. If your tools are scattered across three drawers and a shelf in the closet, you won't use them. You need a dedicated toolbox or tool bag. In Hebrew, argaz kelim. For the basic setup, a medium-sized plastic toolbox with a removable tray is ideal — about sixty to eighty shekels. The tray holds the small items, the main compartment holds the drill and larger tools. Alternatively, a tool bag with pockets is more portable and takes up less space.
I prefer the bag. The hard case always ends up being the wrong shape for the one tool you want to put in it.
The bag conforms. For the hardware cabinet, get a small parts organizer — meorgan bragim, literally a screw organizer — with multiple compartments. These are about thirty shekels at Ace. Label the compartments. I know labeling sounds fussy, but when you're on your hands and knees trying to find a specific size of wall plug, you'll thank yourself.
Labeling is the difference between a system and a pile.
Now, I want to circle back to the shopping strategy. Because where you buy depends on what you're buying, and making the wrong choice costs you either money or time.
Go for it.
For the core tools — hammer, screwdrivers, spanner, tape measure, utility knife, pliers, level — Ace Hardware or Home Center is your best bet. Prices are competitive, you can handle the tools before buying, and returns are straightforward. For the drill, same thing, but I'd also check KSP, an Israeli tool retailer with good prices and knowledgeable staff. They have physical stores and an online shop.
KSP is where the contractors shop, right?
Contractors and serious hobbyists. Their prices on power tools are often better than Ace. For the hardware cabinet items — screws, plugs, hooks, tape, sandpaper — the independent ironmongers are often cheaper, especially in quantity. There's a cluster around the shuk in Jerusalem, and similar clusters in Tel Aviv around Florentin and in Haifa's downtown. The experience is more personal, less polished, but the prices are better and the advice is often more practical.
The ironmonger in the shuk will tell you that the thing you're about to buy is wrong and you actually need this other thing that costs half as much. At Ace, they'll just sell you what you asked for.
That's exactly the difference. The ironmonger is a consultant. The chain store is a fulfillment center. For AliExpress, as I said — consumables, simple items, things where shipping time doesn't matter. It's particularly good for specialty bits and accessories that are overpriced locally — hole saws, spade bits, odd-sized hex keys. Quality is variable, but for occasional use, it's usually fine.
One more source — the used market. Yad2, Facebook Marketplace, local WhatsApp groups. People moving out of the country sell entire toolkits for cheap. It's worth checking before you buy new.
I've seen full tool sets go for a fraction of retail because someone's leaving the country and needs to sell everything in a week. The tools are often barely used.
Because most tools are barely used. That's the secret of the tool industry. They sell you the dream of the project, not the project itself.
Most drills in the world have drilled fewer than fifty holes in their lifetime. They spend their days in dark closets, dreaming of the shelves they might one day hang.
The melancholic life of the domestic drill.
Alright, let me pull this together into something actionable. If you're moving into a place in Israel next week, here's your shopping list. Go to Ace or KSP and buy: claw hammer, screwdriver set with a case, eight-inch adjustable spanner, five-meter tape measure, utility knife with extra blades, combination pliers, forty-centimeter spirit level, cordless drill with a bit set. That's your toolbox. Then buy: assorted screw set, assorted wall plug set, picture hooks, sandpaper variety pack, electrical tape, PTFE tape, silicone sealant and caulking gun, wood filler, zip ties, duct tape. That's your hardware cabinet. Total cost, roughly five hundred to eight hundred shekels depending on the drill you choose. That setup will handle the first year of rental living.
If you're buying a place, add the jigsaw, the socket set, the stud finder, and maybe a hand plane. That pushes you to around twelve hundred to fifteen hundred shekels total, which is still less than calling a handyman five times.
I want to mention one more thing before we wrap — there's a cultural dimension to this. When I was growing up in the States, my favorite hardware store was Mansfield Supply in Storrs, Connecticut. I believe it's the best hardware store in the world.
The best in the world, Herman?
I will defend this. Mansfield Supply was founded in the spring of nineteen fifty-four by Herman Barlow Senior and Ed Trepal. Herman Barlow Senior was known as The Boss, and he ran that place until he was eighty-seven. His sons run it today. And he was the only other Herman I knew growing up in the States. I think about this a lot.
Wait — are you named after him?
You know, I've wondered about that. I might actually be. I used to go there for everything, always fixing things up around the Yukon Dairy Bar. It had that smell — wood, metal, lubricating oil, a hint of fertilizer in the spring. The smell of possibility.
The smell of possibility and slightly-too-much fertilizer.
The point is, the hardware store is more than a retail experience. It's a community institution. In Israel, the ironmongers in the shuk serve that same function. They're not just selling you screws — they're transmitting knowledge. They're the keepers of practical wisdom. So my advice, beyond the shopping list, is to find your local ironmonger. Build a relationship. Learn their name. It pays off in ways you can't predict.
That's good advice. The ironmonger who knows you is an asset more valuable than any single tool.
Now, Hilbert's daily fun fact.
Hilbert: In the nineteen sixties, the average daily diet on Tuvalu included approximately one thousand four hundred grams of coconut flesh per person, which translates to roughly seven and a half modern standard coconuts — more than triple the fiber intake recommended by health authorities today.
a lot of coconut.
Seven and a half coconuts a day. I'm not sure my digestive system could handle that.
To wrap this up, the core insight is that the move-in toolkit is not about being handy. It's about being prepared. You don't need to be a contractor. You just need to be the person who can tighten a hinge before it falls off, fill a hole before it becomes an argument with the landlord, and stop a drip before it becomes a ceiling stain. The tools we've listed are the minimum viable preparedness kit. Buy them once, keep them organized, and they'll serve you for years.
If you're listening to this thinking, I'm not a tool person, I don't know how to do any of this — that's fine. For every single task we've mentioned, there's a three-minute video in Hebrew or English showing you exactly how to do it. The knowledge barrier has never been lower. The only barrier is having the tools on hand when you need them.
Go buy the tools. Before you need them. This has been My Weird Prompts, with thanks to our producer Hilbert Flumingtop. Find us at myweirdprompts dot com, and if you found this useful, leave us a review wherever you get your podcasts. We'll be back next week.
With something completely different, probably.
