Plumbing fun.

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I meant to follow up the last post with a more reference-filled post, but the joys of home ownership happened to me.

I was downstairs swiping candy from Gremlin’s bucket-o-candy when I heard something kinda bad — water hitting the floor somewhere. Not a sound you want to hear. Not even a little bit….

It turned out to be coming from the drain pipe for the upstairs stuff. All the upstairs stuff. So, yuck. Also, yuck. Annoying and yuck. But we’ve got the downstairs, so we can use that. Except…the dishwasher’s upstairs. And the bathtub.

Lowe’s was a bit too far away to get to before it closed, so we tried the nearby more-auto-than-hardware store, and found…some of what we needed. The hose clamps turned out to be too small, and the patching stuff ended up being mostly useless, because what we really needed was a replacement flexible coupling. The one currently joining the two pipes was the age of the house, warped and brittle and not at all coupley anymore. I guess that makes sense, since it was probably made around the same time I was.

Anyway…it took a couple of days to get to Lowe’s, because of various things [snow, and conflicting hours of operation]. A couple of days in which the pipe was sealed, but not…water-tight. Really very yucky to think about, but…it could’ve been worse. And I’m guessing that I couldn’t have gotten anyone else out here to fix it any quicker. And doing it this way was cheaper, and left me with a sense of accomplishment. And a hole in the wall. Also, annoyance at the cat for not understanding that kitty does not go behind the furnace. Not at all. Bad kitty. Get the hell out of there.

Zombi could use a few consecutive baths now, I think. And, hey, we can do that now, because that pipe isn’t leaking anymore. Because I replaced the old not-so-flexible coupling with a new actually flexible coupling.

Yay.

Proud-of-Myself Edit: The dishwasher is running, and the floor’s not getting all wet!

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One thought on “Plumbing fun.

  1. I gotta admit, this is one of the reasons I actually want my own house. See, when you rent, and shit happens (literally in some cases), then you have to deal with at least some small level of bureaucracy to get something done. You have to talk to the landlord or property manager or whatever before anything can happen, and nine times out of ten they claim they will handle it, when what this really means is they’re sending the ACME version of a plumber over to not-really-fix the problem.

    I would really much rather deal with it myself. Seriously. Then at least it will both get done, and get done correctly.

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