True and Distressing Tales of a Do-It-Yourselfer
Chapter One, or “Why My Husband is Peeing in a Snowbank”
It’s midnight. It’s December. My husband is standing outdoors peeing in a snowbank. I know what you’re thinking, and no he didn’t just get home from the bar. He’s not a drinking man.
He’s standing out in the snowbank because at 8:30 this morning I thought I was going to do a load of laundry. Silly me. It’s Monday. I should have known nothing could be simple and straight forward.
I’ve lived in this house for four years and the stool has never flushed right, but hey, it eventually does what it’s supposed to, so no problem. Right? Well, this morning was the straw that broke the camel’s back. The washing machine hit that spin cycle and the stool backed up and over flowed and the bathtub started filling up.
By the time I discovered the problem and got the washing machine shut off, of course the water was running down thru the trap door into the dirt crawl space under the house. It was also saturating the two cotton rugs, various towels and newspapers on the bathroom floor. Ish.
Nothing was draining. We’ve had a cold spell lately so I thought it was possible, not probable, but possible that the sewer line could be frozen. So I heated up the old tea kettle and poured water down the washer drain pipe. Water level in bathtub rose by approximately one kettle full.
Heated another teakettle full. Poured it down the bathroom sink. Level of water in the toilet rose. This continued thru out the morning. The water level would go down a bit and I’d pour more boiling water. I finally couldn’t stand the thought of the laundry sitting there half spun out. I put the drain hose in a five gallon bucket and let it finish it’s cycle.
It was a lovely day. While I was considering the thought that our sewer line was clogged beyond belief, I was shoveling the front step in my shirt sleeves. Finally I called my dear husband at work and told him the story. His first thought was to call someone to fix it! Huh? Who’s going to pay for that?
Well, there are no plumber type guys around here anyway. The husband is at work, that leaves—me. Our sewer line has no cleanout trap, so the only solution is to pull the toilet off and go from there. So, I got out my trusty shop vac, sucked water out of the tub and carted it outdoors, around the snowbank, and dumped. Sucked more water out of the tub, carted outdoors, etc, sucked water out of the toilet, etc. On and on it went till things were dry. The shut off valve for the toilet was corroded beyond use by years of water leaks, so I had to shut the water to the whole house off. Aw, too bad, can’t do dishes.
Took the toilet off, got the plumbers snake out and started working on the sewer pipe. The water level in t he pipe did go down completely after awhile. But I needed a shut off valve so I could get water on to the rest of the house, so I decided I better make a flying trip to town. Thirty five miles, one way. Took the old valve into the hardware store with me, and got all the parts I need. As long as I was in town, I finished my Christmas shopping. Got home, just barely ahead of dear hubby.
We get to work putting things back together. Every single piece the guy at the hardware store had given me was the wrong size! So not only are things not draining, we’ve got no incoming water until tomorrow. And I don’t care what kind of balmy day it was out today, it’s darn cold when you’re doing your business in a bucket on the porch!
Noon, Day 2
Doesn’t seem like much has gotten accomplished this morning. I started my day by checking in at my favorite on-line message boards, then got to work at 7:30. Where to start! First things first, I had to put shoes, coat, hat and gloves on to take the slop bucket out to the compost pile. Back inside, I had to move all the plumbing tools out of the bathroom and go out to the cold garage and get carpentry tools. Again with the shoes and coat and hat and gloves. Thank goodness it was in the upper 30’s. Then I started ripping up old vinyl floor covering. At that point I realized I was going to need a putty knife. I left my putty knives at the church when I was working on a drywall project (which is still a work in progress). Once more, I put the shoes and coat and hat and gloves and trek over to the church for my tools.
It was a nice morning for a walk and I’m happy to say the sunrise was spectacular. There were a few whispy clouds that changed from purple to hot pink to soft orange as the sun came up over the hill. Ripping up old flooring is dirty dusty work I found. The sort of dirty dusty work that could really use a shop vac to suck up the mess. So, on again with the shoes and coat and hat and gloves to empty what’s left of yesterday’s water from the shop vac. Back inside I work away at the floor, pausing often to ponder how it’s all going to work.
Pry bar in hand, I start on the rotted floor boards. Ha! The floor boards run underneath the wall, so I call dad to have him bring his reciprocating saw. While I’m waiting for him, I pry up what boards I can and pull out the rusty, equally rotted nails. The sub floor doesn’t look great and I sit on the edge of the tub. If I stare at it long enough, maybe the problem will go away! No, the problem’s not going away. Rot is rot and I really don’t want to lay new boards over it. The trouble is, the sub floor is old 1x12 lap boards that run diagonally across the floor joists. There’s not really any way to replace them without pulling up the whole entire floor. That’s not something I want to do very bad, and when Dad gets here, something he flat refuses to even consider.
As I’m hanging head first down in the little hole we laughingly refer to as a “crawl space”, I discover that some dolt in the past has cut out a 2 ft. section of floor joist to install the sewer pipe. And then we wonder why we’re sinking! Of course there’s plumbing and wiring running every which way so it’s impossible to get in there and reinforce things.
Enter Dad. Let me explain that dad is an old cowboy with attitudes that match. He’s a pretty good furniture builder, but when it come to fixing houses, he’s something less of a perfectionist than I. My plan is to replace the rotted floor boards with the same kind of lumber, which I have on hand, then sand donw and varnish the whole thing. Dad’s idea is to just cut a piece of plywood to the right size and throw some cheap linoleum over it. No, no, no! Douglas fir may not be the ideal wood flooring, but it’s what I’ve got, and I will have wood floors. Why would I want new linoleum off gassing fumes in my house if I can avoid it? It wouldn’t be so bad if I could get real genuine linoleum, but I’ve priced that and I couldn’t afford that even if I won the lottery.
We compromised on the sub flooring. Cut out the most rotted section and replaced it with a chunk of plywood, reinforced underneath with 2x4’s. Not the perfect solution, but it’s about all we can do. Nothing more to be done without plumbing parts which won’t be here until the hubby gets home from work.
10 pm. We have running water!!! Hurray! No toilet until tomorrow. Boo, hiss!!!!!!! DH had to build a piece to go from the toilet into the sewer drain because of course they don’t make parts that size anymore. Imagine that! So, with a piece of this and a piece of that and some super duper glue and a prayer, he made a collar (I think it’s actually called a closet something or other) that should work.
Day 3
9:40 am. Time for a coffee break! The tongue and groove flooring is installed- properly I might add. The collar that DH built last night to go between the toilet and sewer pipe is installed and the hose clamps tightened.
Good thing I’m bendy. At least I always thought I was bendy, darling daughter #3 came home from science class and informed me that I am double jointed. Whatever. Fact of the matter is- I was hanging head first in the crawl space again this morning. Oh, my sinuses! Had a ratchet with 3 extensions on it that just barely reached the screw on the hose clamp that is around the rubber boot that is around the sewer pipe. The object of the game was to get that tiny little socket on the little screw and tighten the hose clamp around the new fittings. It’s a very good thing I have very long arms, because it took one arm, threaded amongst the various plumbing parts under there to hold the hose clamp in place and the other arm to run the ratchet. As usual, I got myself into a predicament, accomplished what I needed to and had no idea how to get out. Right arm was stuck! It took some wiggling around to get loose again.
The toilet bowl is properly installed and bolted to the floor. A good mornings work if I do say so myself. I spent a half hour scraping Decades of caulking off the base of the tub. Those do-it-yourself shows on television never show you things like that. “And the list of tools you’ll need is: hammer, chisel, razor blade, utility knife, putty knife, younger knees, and an extensive supply of swear words.”
When I’ve had enough coffee, and applied enough linament to my shoulders, I’ll be getting out the belt sander to start refinishing the floor. I have to do the little strip between the tub and the toilet bowl before I put the toilet tank back on, otherwise there will be no room to work. At least I have a pot to pee in again! And I’m going to try running the washing machine. We’ll find out just how clear- or not- that sewer line is.
Stay tuned for Chapter 2- or What Do I Work on Next?
