I knew my week was off to an ominous start when I showed up Minneapolis Airport (where I will never use the restroom again) for my 7:30 am flight on Monday morning and was told the airplane had hit a bird. The flight was canceled since the bird had done a fair amount of damage. I could only assume that the plane had hit a pterodactyl since one could assume any bird alive today hit by a plane going 500 mph would basically explode on impact. Since I didn’t see the plane, I will have to assume the airline was telling the truth though.
Once I was able to fly out I treated to getting another cold while away from home. My tonsils swelled up like a couple of sick brains in the back of the throat and soon enough it wan’t much fun to swallow. I tossed and turned one night basically waking up every hour or two until about 5 in the morning when extreme hunger pains hit me. Since I was in a hotel, I had to wait for 6 for breakfast. I sat in my room, smelling the stale smell of other people’s cigarette smoke with my throat burning, wondering if I would get in trouble if I just flew home that day or not. I stuck in through and finally made it home on Thursday, on another delayed flight.
By Thursday night, I was feeling a little better and since Angie had been home alone all week with Will, I decided to do some odd cleaning jobs around the house. The sink in the bathroom constantly gets clogged and takes about 3 hours to drain a little water out of the sink. I was messing around with trying to take the plunger out of the sink to clear the crap out when I thought I would check the trap for a clean out (the trap is the “s” or “p” shaped pipe under your sink, it holds water in it so sewer gases don’t wander up the empty pipes and fill your house with explosive methane). So I am running my finger on the underside of this trap feeling for a big nut that can be removed and allow the trap to be cleaned (I can’t see the pipe because it is behind the pedestal of the sink) when I feel a little piece of the pipe’s casting fall off. I thought that was slightly odd since only a cast iron pipe would have a casting like that and I was defiantly working with just some chromed pipes. Then I feel water trickling out on my hand…
Long story short with the drain pipe, it had rusted through, completely. I had to pull the pedestal off the sink (luckily whomever installed it just used tons of silicon and no screws to connect everything) and that gave me access to the trap. It was a simple fix and I am glad it happened when I was there to notice it. I am sure that pipe has been dripping a little bit for a long time. Unfortunately, the story of the sink doesn’t end there. I had shut off the water supply valves so no one would accidentally run water in the sink (in retrospect just putting the plunger in the sink would have been a much better idea) and when I turned them back on no water came out. I assumed the washers had broken off and I took the valves apart and pulled the washers out. This time I got plenty of hot water, but no cold water. A piece of the washer was missing, so I took the cold water supple apart again and clean out all the fittings, including the faucet. Everything went back together again just fine and now I had hot and cold water… plus another leak. I some how had messed up the little supply tube and it was dripping water from the connections. After two more trips to Menards (I bought the wrong sized tube the first time) everything was fixed and water tight.
Needless to say, I was frustrated. I often ask Angie what she would do if I wasn’t “handy” and able to fix all these little problems that tend to come up in an older home. I then realized she would have called a pro and the job would have been done in an hour and done right the first time. At any rate, she still allows me to fumble around and tell her about traps and valves and gaskets and pretends that she is happy with a diy’er.