Clogged Sink

Plugged Sink: Day One

Of all the little jobs around the house, plumbing is the worst.

Water cannot be trusted. It is a solvent. That doesn't mean it solves all your problems. It means that it dissolves your house. Drop by drop, splash by splash, puddle by puddle. It is insidious, invisible, incredibly annoying.

Why did we ever bring these pipes into our house anyway? Because we like to wash our hands, our faces, our bodies? Because we like to flush things down the toilet? Because we like to hear the sump pump go off in the middle of the night, reminding us that it is still working hard in the middle of the rainstorm to keep our basement dry? (Or, conversely, to not hear the sump pump go off in the middle of the night, making us panic to think that it is not working hard in the middle of the rainstorm but has died a horrible death instead, a precursor to the impending doom of our basement).

Water pipes are self-centered, selfish wastrels who are just waiting for an opportunity to clog up and send your life down the proverbial drain. And usually all it takes is a few grams of fiber or starch or some other substance that is so fond of itself that it tends to clump together in groups, crowds, assemblies, mobs -- and you know what mobs like to do. Yep, they impede progress, usually by some form of violence.

In this case, the "form of violence" is me attempting to push the offending substance (which I can't actually see) further down the pipe (because there's no point in trying to suck it back up; no vacuum on earth has power over a clogged drain) with whatever tool happens to be handy: plunger, compression pump, or metal snake. Violence is never the solution, though, as is proven over and over again. Pipes just laugh at violence. Or break. Which is far worse.

Last time this happened, it took two and a half gallons of Liquid Plumber (aka sodium hydroxide) to dissolve the offending substance over the course of eight or twelve hours, because I refused to take the stupid pipes apart. Do you know how many joints are in that short section of pipe underneath the sink? In a normal sink, you can get away with two: one between the wall and the P-trap, and the other between the P-trap and the sink. But if you toss in the disposal unit, now you're looking at a minimum of five because the disposal attachment has an angled T-connector with three connectors. Ours, incidentally, has six because there's a straight section of pipe between the P-trap and the wall.

Six connection points means six potential leaking joints every time you take the thing apart. So you can understand why I hesitate to break out the crescent wrench and start twisting.

So my first step was to dump a cup or two of Drano (aka sodium hydroxide) down the sink to let it stew awhile. Fifteen minutes. Flush. (Still plugged.) Repeat. Flush. (Still plugged.) Repeat. Flush. (Still plugged.) Repeat until all my remaining [Insert Product Name Here] (aka sodium hydroxide) is gone, gone, gone.

(Still plugged.) Rats.

It's late. I'm out of [Product]. Can't do anything more tonight.

Next morning, out to the store. Purchase more [Product]. Pour down drain. Wait. Flush. Repeat. (Still plugged.) Really??!?  Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Nothing. Extreme frustration.

OK. Finally. Bit the bullet. Pull the pipes apart. Run the snake down the very short length of pipe going to the wall. Nothing. (Still plugged.) Unbelievable!

Plugged Sink: Almost ready for the Snake

Re-attach just enough pipe to create a vertical column (to add pressure) into which I can pour some more "Product" and then let sit overnight.

Plugged Sink: End of Day Two

Wake up in the morning and run to the sink. Column of "Product" is gone -- but that doesn't mean anything, because it will typically drain very, very slowly even there's a serious blockage. So fill up the column with water and ... yep, still plugged.

Now it's miracle time. Out of sheer flailure, I pass the snake through one more time, only now I jam it down as far as I can get it to go, twisting and twisting to get it past all the curves and kinks and turns and tweaks of that pipe that sits behind the wall. (Did I mention that the pipe has a sharp turn to the left just inside the wall because there's a window above the sink?) Push-twist-push-twist until it won't move any more. Pull out to see if it found anything. Hmmm... just a little bit of mushy stuff that looks like leftover rice. Really? Doesn't seem like enough to plug anything.

So. Fill up the column one more time. The water drains. Quickly. Huh? Repeat. The water drains. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. The water drains. Confusion reigns.

With the anticipation of defeat in my heart, I carefully re-assemble the pipes again. Pour water down the drain. Rats. Leaking joints. Tighten joints. Repeat. Still leaking! Re-adjust pipes, then tighten again. Finally, no leaks.

Fill the sink with water. Let drain. It drains! Repeat (because I don't believe it.) Still works. Repeat four or five times, all the while waiting for new leaks to appear beneath the sink (there is a pan underneath because I don't trust it). Nothing.

So it ... works? I still don't trust it. I will leave the pan underneath for the next few days until it is proven that no leaking is occurring.

Meanwhile, after five gallons of sodium-hydroxide-based ["Product"], we're back in business.

I hope.

Babysitting Lola

Lola, Deb's cat, needed to get out of the apartment for awhile so we volunteered to babysit. Er, cat-sit. Since she's a cat. Not a baby. (Although sometimes it's hard to tell, given the way Deb talks about her.)

So Deb brought her over on Tuesday morning on her way to school or work or something, and Lola spent a few hours wandering through the house checking everything out.

She wanted to go into every room. I shut all the doors upstairs so she couldn't get into the bedrooms. And I shut the basement door so she wouldn't go downstairs.

She had plenty of other things to check out, though. The closets. The pantry. The Christmas tree. Behind the couches. Underneath the tables.

She never really settled down even though she was there for hours and hours. Cats are so curious! At one point, Mary was in the bathroom doing her pre-school prep and Lola sat in front of the door, staring at it as if she were telepathically knocking to gain entrance.

At one point, which I did not capture, she even got up on her haunches (like a prairie dog).

Later in the evening, when Adam was making noise in the basement, she sat in front of the basement door and peered through the glass trying to figure out what was going on down there. And hoping someone would open the door so she could go down there and find out for herself.

We didn't give her the chance. I don't want to waste time chasing cats around my basement, or trying to figure out if they've decided to mark territory.

We kept her longer than we had originally anticipated, owing to some anticipated apartment work that might happen on Wednesday. Not a problem. Having had cats for years, we don't mind hosting them for short-term periods.

I love cats. But until all my floors are wood and all my furniture is cat-proof, I'll restrict them to guest-only status.

First Big Snow Storm of 2018 .... ?

Front Yard Snow Storm ?

They said it was the first big snowstorm of the season, but it really didn't amount to much, not by Michigan standards. I think we got between four and six inches overall. That usually isn't enough to stop the school buses from running, so I was surprised when they cancelled school this morning.

Perhaps it was because the temperature wasn't enough to freeze the snow good and hard. When the snow is powdery, the cars and trucks (and buses) actually get better traction, especially after the DOT trucks dump sand all over the roads. But when the temperature is hovering between 28 and 32 Fahrenheit (that's -2 and 0 Celsius) and the copious salt has turned all the roads into slush, and then the overnight freeze turns all the slush into an ice rink, them buses ain't a-goin nowhere.

So all the school kids stayed home, but Mary had to be up and running out the door early to get to work, and then off to school. No rest for the weary, not even when the roads are a mess. I ended up shoveling the driveway twice, once when it was time for Mary to leave, and again before she got home. The exercise felt good.

It was so pretty for awhile. And then it was time to get busy.

Back Yard Snow Storm (No Shoveling Required)

Thanksgiving Feast

I don't remember how long ago we started having Thanksgiving with the Shapins, but it feels like forever -- probably because we have such a thoroughly good time -- and we look forward to it every year. Actually, we like getting together with them any chance we get, but it doesn't happen so often that we get tired of one another's company. Whenever we get together, there is always excellent food, excellent conversation, and just enough visitation that we don't wear each other out.

We don't get up early in the morning to watch the Macy's parade or fall asleep in the recliners watching football; but we spend a good amount of time in the kitchen putting lots of food together, then sit around the table yapping and nibbling and seeing how much we can fill up our tummies; and then we go out into the living room and yap some more until we're ready to jump in and get some dessert from the dessert table:

Eric brought his guitar over and he and I played together for awhile, mostly instrumentals; and then, as our discussion started wandering in the direction of learning German in order to prepare for our next trip to visit James and Tabea, we watched a bit of Peppa Pig (in German) as well.

All in all, a very filling, very successful day!

Closing Up Shop (for Winter)

At some point at the beginning of the winter season here in the Upper Midwest (Rust Belt, Snow Belt, whatever you want to call it), it's necessary to put away all the warm-weather toys and hunker down by the fire and -- unless one is a child eager to build snowmen -- read a good book.

In prior years, the problem has been an overabundance of automobiles in the driveway for which there was no room in the garage. We like to keep the cars in the garage if possible to avoid long-term exposure to weather (snow, salt, rain, extreme cold), but over the past few years, too many of the non-functioning cars were taking up all the spare room in the garage.

Now that all the Subarus are gone, there is room for the Sonata, the Corolla, and (barely) the Grand Am.

If I am very careful.

It took me an entire day to reorganize things in the garage so that the Grand Am would actually fit, mainly due to the size of the larger tools (table saw, drill press, etc) taking up all the room at the far end. Then, of course, there's the rolling carts along the side. I was able to consolidate a lot of stuff in order to reduce the number of rolling carts needed, but the main issue is that there is only an inch of clearance on either side of the car (side mirror to rolling cart) so getting the car into the garage is a painstakingly slow affair. And there has to be enough room to open the car door and walk around one end of it or there's no point in even trying.

(Notice all my spare 2x4s underneath the car. That's my makeshift wood storage area!)

It's a tight fit, but it'll work for the winter.

And now the driveway is all clear!  Yay!

(Of course, this means I'll be doing a bit more snow shoveling this season....)

Subaruless

It finally happened. We sold off our last Subaru.

The car has been sitting in the driveway for several months doing nothing, other than taking a few trips here and there to the hardware store, mainly due to the size of the back section when all the seats are folded down. Easier to carry lumber that way, you know. But it's had its issues...

Six months ago (or thereabouts), it started leaking oil, dripping slowly from the oil pan. I tried to figure out exactly where it was originating from, checking the front timing belt covers and thinking perhaps it was a camshaft seal leak and it was going to destroy the timing belt and then the engine would completely self-destruct (which is what these interference engines do when the timing belts fail); but it didn't seem to be coming from there. Observing the bottom of the engine while it was running, the oil appeared to be coming from the back of the engine, which could mean that the rear main seal was bad. That would be ... well, bad. Because I don't the time or shop space to pull the engine and fix something like that.

Then there is the rust, the incredibly non-stop rust. The rear wheel wells are compromised; any rain or salt that gets picked up by the wheels is sent like a jet-spray right up into the inner part of the frame, and from there it rots the car from within. It's horribly insidious; in the space of a year or so, it etched huge gaps in the body along the periphery, from the support beam between the side doors all along the rocker panels and stretching on into the rear cargo space. Additionally, the entire underside of the car is covered with rust. Several of the body bolts have shed layers of rust so that it is impossible to gain purchase on their edges in order to loosen them. It would be impossible at this point to take it apart enough to clean the body parts, even if (and I had hoped) there were time and money available.

Other non-critical but annoying faults include: inoperative rear left wheel parking brake (the rear right one works fine); bald front left tire; alternator belt squeal when starting; missing radio; faulty hood latch (which explains the new windshield we put in several months ago); broken fog lights; inoperative rear window wiper; sticky rear hatch handle; various minor scratches, dents and dings.

So I put an ad on craigslist, listing a completely ridiculous price ($300, which is the maximum cash you can pull out of the ATM machine in one day), and within 20 minutes, people starting sending emails wanting to buy it. So many people responded, in fact, that I had to set up a spreadsheet to track them (to determine who is next in line in case the first-come, first-served start backing out).

The first couple were all gung-ho about coming to take a look at it, but due to various issues (on their end), they weren't able to come by on Monday afternoon (and I didn't want them coming by in the evening when it would be too dark to see all the details). And then they took forever to come by on Tuesday (today) due to various things they didn't explain. But they finally arrived, having driven 30 miles to see it! And apparently they liked what they saw (for the price), because they handed over the cash and drove away in my old their new car.

I'm sad to see it go. It was a lot of fun to drive, even though originally it was only intended to be the backup car while my main car (Serenity) was getting fixed. But Serenity never got fixed, and now Serenity II is gone, and that is the end of my Subaru adventure.

Soon it will be time to get rid of our other rust-bucket car, the Grand Am, and then there will only be the Hyundai and the Toyota, with constant weekly car washes to reduce the amount of rust that inevitably destroys cars in this part of the country.

If we stay in this part of the country, we'll need to find an all-plastic car. Or something made from a material that doesn't hyper-oxidize in the presence of salt.  Where's a good chemist when you need one??!

It's all about the brakes

Saturday was a busy day, in the sense that there was a lot going on, but not in the sense that there was a lot accomplished. At least, not according to plan.

The Plan (for me) was to (1) find out what was wrong with Deb's car, and fix it; and (2) find out what was wrong with Cheryl's car, and fix it; then (3) go to our neighbor's house for a nice dinner.

The Plan (for Cheryl) was (1) to go to Tai Chi; (2) to work on various projects around the house; then (3) go to our neighbor's house for a nice dinner.

The Plan (for Deb) was to (1) show up; (2) start some laundry; (3) go shopping with Mary; (4) fold laundry; then (5) head home to Lola, taking as many of her siblings as possible.

The Plan (for Mary) was (1) get up; (2) get coffee; (3) go shopping with Deb; (4) bake stuff; (5) hang out with Deb and Lola (the cat).

The Plan for Adam was (1) go to bed; (2) sleep; (3) get up; (4) hang out with Deb and Lola (the cat).

My Plan was all set, but it didn't happen as quickly as I had expected because there are some things more important then fixing houses and fixing cars, like spending time with family and sharing silly stories and laughing and having fun together. Once Deb showed up, Deb and Mary started swapping stories about when they were kids, playing with Barbies, and Adam put in his two cents, and I just listened and laughed.

Oh, procrastination can be so much fun!

So my plan was delayed a little bit while we spent the morning telling stories and laughing our heads off and having lots of fun -- and then it was time to get serious and get some work done. So I headed off to the garage to play work with cars and the girls headed off to the mall to do whatever it is that people do when they go to the mall (I used to eat bagels and drink Cream Soda, but that was many many years ago when it was 'cool' to wander around Regency Mall in my Izod shirts, and when I actually used to have brownish hair) where I spent the remainder of the morning/afternoon figuring out that:

Deb's brakes were screeching in reverse because sometimes brakes just like to do that when they aren't quite adjusted correctly, and the only way to adjust them correctly is to put the car in reverse and let the car build up a little speed and then jam on the brakes as hard as possible, which kicks in the auto-adjust feature (I'm not really sure how it works) and then repeat that about five or six times until the screeching goes away. And then hope it doesn't happen any more.

It actually took me quite a while to figure this out because, naturally, my first impulse is to take the wheels off and inspect the brakes and find out exactly what they are doing; unfortunately, there is (apparently) no way to tell if they are adjusted properly by just looking at them. So I put the wheels back on and put the front end of the car up on the lift (thanks again, Dad!) and started the car and put it in reverse and let the wheels start spinning and then jammed on them a few times but that isn't enough to kick in the auto-adjust feature (I surmise) because I couldn't get them to screech but the minute I shut the car off and let it down from the lift and went in reverse, it was no different than when I started. So I went upstairs and did some YouTube research (last refuge of the mechanical moron) and learned about the 'go in reverse and jam on the brakes' method of adjustment, and gave it a try.

Worked like a charm.

Deb had finished her plan by the time I finished the 'adjustment', so she headed home to wait for her siblings to show up. And I started working on car #2.

I thought this one was going to be a stumper because I've been chasing this issue since before the first time Cheryl went down to Texas and haven't been able to figure it out. But this time, the problem had gotten so consistent that the issue was obvious this time: the brake caliper piston was frozen up and wouldn't go back to its non-activated position once pressure was removed from the pedal. [Part of the test procedure is to pull the caliper off and push the piston back to the de-activated position and then press the pedal to confirm piston travel-and-return; it had always worked fine before, but now refused to de-activate.] The solution is simple: order the part on-line from NAPA, drive up there before they close, pick up the part (and leave the core), then install the new part and continue with normal life.

So I ordered the part on-line and drove up to the store and picked it up (they know me quite well up there because I've redone all the brakes on all the cars over the last two years) and came home again and installed the new caliper just in time to get ready for our dinner with the neighbors.

So both cars were working fine and we had a wonderful (and filling) time at our friends' house, eating and talking and singing (yes, there was a sing-a-long!) and then went home to do all the last-minute Saturday night getting-ready-for-Sunday things that we always do.