Showing posts with label The Money Pit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Money Pit. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Progress!


Well . . . . kind of. This is what my living room looks like . . . pardon the phone photo, but I have to get back to work. I'm on a quick bathroom/caffeine break at midnight. Then that header on the right is getting finished (that's where I stopped, since I need to go grab a clamp) and then the center post is getting cut out. See, both those center openings are about 1/8" too small, give or take, for my windows, so I'm cutting those out from the header to the footer and replacing the two 2x4s with two modern "2x4s" which are actually only about 1.5" thick. That will have the effect of making each opening about 1/4" larger, which should make the windows fit perfectly. It's slower going since I'm trying to use quieter hand tools, but I'm just sick of not getting this done. You can see one of the 6' windows roughed into the left-hand opening . . . and the original wood 94" window in the right-hand opening. The old windows were huge, and it's nice, but I want a window seat in this spot and 6" windows are the longest reasonably inexpensive windows that are common sizes.

The old windows are about 100 years old, and the sashes were literally built with wooden pegs rather than nails or screws. They're masterpieces of hand craftwork, and I feel a little guilty about tearing them out. Unfortunately, nobody has made any effort to maintain them. They weren't really designed to be airtight when they were built, but they were solid windows with heavy, solid storm windows, but they were simply painted shut and left to rot. Now they have to go. I'm looking for a good place to use the unbroken panes in a decorative way, but we'll see what that might be. For now, I just want my family to be warm this winter without spending hundreds of dollars on gas.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Cheerful news on the cooktop front

Sadly, the old and busted cooktop is old and busted. The new hotness cooktop, provided by the internet, will arrive in about a week. Everybody wanted at least a few days to get one I liked from their warehouses, and Lowes actually told me two weeks. Do these people not realize that it's 2009? I could have my robot butler drive up there in my flying car and pick one up in a couple of hours, guys. Step up your game.

The circuit it blew is back online now as well. As so often happens in my household, it was a
simple matter of taking another look at things and making no assumptions. My dad observed that my grandfather's house has the same steampunk fuse boxes as mine does, and the last time they blew out a circuit by plugging in their new miracle space heater from the TeeVee, they went crazy trying to figure out the problem. In the end, they replaced all the fuses just in case, and it started working--even though they'd all been checked.

You see where this is going? The plug fuses, which look like this, were just fine. You can check them easily; if the circuit shorts, they fill with black smoke and you can't see the element. If they overload, the element breaks. If you can see the intact element, they're still passing current.

But the cartridge fuses, which look like this, are more difficult. I put a continuity tester on those, and they were dead, so I bought a couple of new ones and voila! The power, she flows. Now we have an oven again.

Semi-Crazy Idea for Laptop

OK, I asked awhile back about a device that was supposed to prevent a problem I already have: the power cord on my Toshiba laptop has been yanked around too much, and the port on the machine has worked loose. I've already had it repaired once at considerable expense, but it's already worked its way out of joint again--as the computer tech warned me it was likely to do.

Someone helpfully suggested a docking station that would power the computer through a different port while it was being used, and that sounded great--but I can't find one that says it's compatible with a Toshiba Satellite A75-S206. I don't know enough to really know whether there's a dock out there that I could use . . . I really just want to be able to power the thing, the other features don't make any difference to me.

Then I thought about something else--what about a way to charge the battery outside the computer? Surely that's doable, right? Nope. Apparently the Li-ion batteries in these things are excessively 'splody and they're all completely different, so there's no generic charger and a homebuilt unit would be beyond my tech skills.

This leaves me with opening it up and re-soldering the power jack--again--myself. The prospect is frightening, yet strangely exhilarating. And if I completely screw it up, the case is large enough for several Shoot-N-C targets to stick.

Monday, August 17, 2009

240v Wiring Bleg--Don't know what I'm doing


So, if you read the last post entitled "Why is the smoke coming from under the stove?" you know that we had a power surge during a storm last night and the electric cooktop in the kitchen succumbed. I tried to figure it out between EMS calls last night with little success, and at 1:00 in the morning I ended up just disconnecting the wiring pigtail for the cooktop from the junction box. I really don't get 240v wiring, but I figured it was connected red/red, black/black, white/white, bare/bare, so how hard could it be? As I understand it, the only big difference from 120v is that there are two 120v feeds, so both the black and white are probably live with 120v.

I figure I need a new cooktop; it's an ancient Kenmore, so parts are probably worse than a new one if I keep it simple. But I don't want to have to go buy the first one I see this morning, so I thought I could cap the wires in the junction box and get the other appliances on the same circuit working again. That didn't work; the circuit is dead now.

What do I have to do to cap that junction safely and still have the rest of the circuit live? I'm tempted to wire the two 120v "hot" wires together, but I don't really see the point and I'm afraid of damaging the wiring because (I might have mentioned this before) I don't know what I'm doing. I just wanted to do the monkey-smart part, pulling out the old appliance and connecting the new one exactly the same way.


Luckily, my wife is smarter than me, and she called me awhile ago to tell me I should just plug the refrigerator into one of the working outlets in the kitchen with an extension cord until the circuit can be fixed. Thank God I'm pretty.

It's hard to see what's going on in this photo on the right, but this is one of the rheostat switches on the cooktop. This is where the smoke came from. One side of the plug is completely severed and the whole thing is covered in black, greasy crud. The cooktop was old and impossible to clean anyway, so I won't miss it. I just don't want to buy one, plunk it in and then watch it go up in smoke, too.
(I guess the advantage would be that parts should be available for the new one . . . as long as it doesn't burn the house down.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Why is the smoke coming from *under* the stove?

Well, that was exciting. The storm raged, the rain slammed the house in sheets, and dinner was on the stove. Then the lights flickered, the radio roared with static for a moment, everyone wondered what had happened.

Then we noticed that the stove was smoking. To be precise, the wooden drawers under the stove were smoking, and switching off all the burners failed to extinguish either the big red "ON" light or the smoke. My Bride grabbed the fire extinguisher as I ran to the basement to pull the fuses.

We left the smoke to clear with the fuses cut out while we have dinner. I will go back and look it over, if only so I can disconnect the stove from power and replace the fuses (the refrigerator and the oven are on the same circuit.) I'm still not sure what happened. It seems like a surge, but the computer and other other delicate electronics didn't get fried, and the fuses look brand new, even on the "bad" circuit. We noticed some flickering in the refrigerator light before we saw the smoke from the stove, so we figure there's something going on in that circuit, but I can't figure out how a surge went through 20-amp fuses without breaking them. It makes me wonder whether some metal object from the junk drawer worked its way up into a switch or some other wiring.

Monday, July 13, 2009

Something You Don't Do Every Day

I chatted with my neighbor over my fence this evening, which is just not something that happens very often. They're nice enough people, and we're introverted and gruff but lovable, and yet we just don't do a lot of what used to be the stereotype of the American homeowner.

We discussed my progress on the porch and landscaping around the shop (natch) and Donovan explained his book to her, then told her about getting a letter from one of Queen Elizabeth's Ladies-In-Waiting. She recommended Children of Men, I recommended Alcatraz Versus the Evil Librarians. (That's right, kids, it's spelled with a "u" and it's not a verb in present tense; you can't "verse" someone unless, possibly, you are spitting mad rhymes in his general direction.)

Friday, July 3, 2009

My Flower Beds

Let me show you them.
I probably should have taken a "before" picture . . . but I didn't, so I post what I post. Before, the front yard was completely empty. Then, one day, I came home and found my grandpa and my dad putting this trellis in at the side of the house, right where we had to dogleg to miss it every time we backed out of the drive. It was not ideal, but I didn't want to refuse my grandfather's gift; he made the thing himself. Thought the house needed something. Anyway, I've since moved it to the front, where it works a lot better, but makes mowing more complicated. Today, I put in two new flower beds in the corners of the walk, and yes, I did kill more grass than necessary on the left there. Good of you to notice. It's hard to see clearly in my cruddy photo, but they're edged with bricks recovered from the chimney we removed from our dining room, arranged along an arc of a circle with an eight-foot radius. This way, anybody should be able to mow right up to the bricks without needing to stop--just follow the curve. Now that the beds are in, I'll soon add Clematis flowering vines to climb the trellis, but for now, at least the beds are mulched and have "Big Bird" Hemerocallis lilies planted on each side. They don't look like much now, but soon enough they should look like this:
(Click photo to see where it came from)

Of course, that's only one small project, and tomorrow's is already lined up:

My little "shop" in the backyard. It's hard to tell here, but I painted it last year and painted the trim dark green, which made it look a lot better. Still, it's just kind of plonked down in the corner of the yard, and it's a pain to keep the weeds down.





You can also see that there's not much in front other than dirt, a few stones haphazardly piled to make a step, and a couple of big, cavernous holes where everything from rabbits to cats to my idiot dogs have burrowed under the shop. This building will be getting a small wooden porch and steps to make the front cleaner and safer to use.

Here you can see what lurks off to the side . . . . all space I want to reclaim for a useful purpose. You can also see the white spray-paint line that marks where the flower bed will be edged. The corners are arcs from 6-foot-radius circles, so again, mowing around this area should be quick and easy with almost no trimming. Eventually, most of this corner of the yard will be a small vegetable garden, since it's one of the few spots I have that get sun almost all day.

All that will have to wait, however. Dad has the day off tomorrow, so first . . . . we fish!

Friday, January 30, 2009

The Potty Plan


Here's the floor plan I created with the tool at Warmly Yours tonight. The idea is that you enter your floor plan, they give you an estimate and you can order your pieces right away. I've already ordered their sample mat and their installation DVD, and I'm convinced, but at this moment their computers are telling me that my warmed area is too small. I'm thinking that means that one mat won't fit over the area without doubling some cable back over itself, which is probably a no-no. The warming cable has its resistance figured pretty precisely, so if you cut it and splice it, you're also changing the resistance if you've changed the length. At best, you're going to make it heat more or less than the thermostat shows, and I don't want that. But there has to be a way, short of having custom mats cut. I hate to say it, but I know at least one of their competitors makes smaller mats . . . but I'm going to send them an email first and see what they suggest. In the meantime, I did this one, too. This didn't solve the floor-heating problem, but it does a couple of nice things for me. First, look at all that walking room! Second, look at the tub--in this plan, I would now use a left-hand tub as I originally planned, since My Bride would not want to kneel between toilet and tub to bathe the Boy-Child III. That relocates the shower supply plumbing to an inside wall (the top and left walls are exterior; the bottom and right walls are interior.) The toilet and sink are far enough over to the south that their plumbing is not in a true exterior wall--there's a roof line running from the floor on the left to about chest height on the right corner, so their plumbing is below that roof line and therefore unlikely to freeze on me.
So why didn't I do this in the first place? Well, in its old spot the toilet was right between two joists and had a simple run for its drain that wouldn't have needed a hole in a joist. In this spot, I will probably have to drill at least one joist, and I don't know if I can put it there without placing the drain right over a joist anyway. It's also a tight spot for the shoulders, although it looks to me like it could work. You have to remember that the tub is low enough not to matter to the shoulders of a person sitting on the toilet; it just needs to leave leg room.

This room will have a forced-air vent so that the central air can reach it, but it's in the ceiling above the tub. If the floor heat works as well as they say, I may end up closing that vent off in the winter to let the other rooms have more air.

(Yes, it's that small. Yes, the tub is non-negotiable. But you'll notice I've got a nice little path built in . . . and the pocket door really helps.)



Sunday, January 18, 2009

Bathroom Wiring Adventures

We just got back from my mom and dad's house, where we stuffed ourselves on crappie, bluegill, and catfish. Healthy eating it wasn't, but I've been very good for awhile now. One of the twins spent this afternoon ice fishing with my dad; the other one gets to go tomorrow, while I have to take tickets for a wrestling tournament. So what did I do today? I wired the new bathroom upstairs. Does it work? You'll have to wait until the last slide to know for sure:*



*That was a lie; you must know I have to tell you. Everything works; all the outlets, the exhaust fan, and both sets of lights. I'm feeling rather smug. I had to wire it all to an existing circuit, but when the new breaker box goes in, that junction will be broken up and everything in this bathroom will go to a breaker that doesn't affect any other circuit. Currently the wiring in this house is a spiderweb, but this makes three rooms that are wired logically and according to international code, each ready to be connected to its own breaker.

Friday, January 16, 2009

Freezer Day--School Holiday

Yesterday we were in the Chicago area just in time to wake up to air temperatures of -14 degrees Fahrenheit. That's not counting the infamous wind chill, which true winter warriors never trusted even before the infamous "they" up and changed it to make it seem warmer than it really is. Cold is cold, and -14 certainly qualifies. We were there to see family, but it wasn't a happy occasion. More on that later if I find the right words, but everyone in our household is fine and there's no one to worry about.

We're out of school today, along with just about every other school, counseling program, martial arts school, civic organization and sports league in the area, so I'm trying to put this found time to good use. This morning I've been cutting and fitting plywood to enclose the last bit of open ceiling, insulating as I go. Now that it's almost done (and not a moment too soon--the attic was warm enough to break a sweat and the rooms below are cold and breezy) I'm almost ready to finish up the wiring in the new upstairs bathroom* and then get to work running supply plumbing. I hope to have the old floor out and the new stuff going in before Monday. It's a holiday for us, but I'm already signed up to take tickets at the wrestling tournament. Still, if I can get the floor out and prepped for the new floor, I'll be very close to finishing this thing. I have all the fixtures except the tub, and the drain stack is finished, complete with an attic vent. The wiring is so close I can see it in my head, and everything that's connected works perfectly. I just need to get the switches done, add the last light fixture over the mirror, and connect the junction downstairs.

( *The wiring would be done if I hadn't made a mistake with the switches in the bathroom last week--right before I went on duty and had to quit for the night.)

Sunday, October 5, 2008

Windows Errors

I wish I could blame Microsoft. I really do. But as it got dark, and the mosquitoes settled in on the backs of my knees while I ladder-surfed unsteadily with a 3x4-foot window in my hands, all I could think was "This is all your fault, dummy."
I was talking to myself.

Our windows are atrocious. We need to replace all of them, more or less; most are original to the house, which makes many of them close to 100 years old. They consist of single panes of glass caulked into wooden sashes which ride in frames constructed of cut plank sections. Long ago, these window sashes rose smoothly to admit fresh air and sunshine, aided by large iron counterweights hung from ropes which ran over pulleys hand-fitted into the window frames. Nowadays we usually find the counterweights in the bottoms of the walls when we strip the old plaster; the ropes have rotted to the point that they can be plucked apart by children. The kids like to tie each others' wrists with the window ropes and then burst free in the manner of Superman. But I digress; the point is that the windows are terrible things. They let in entirely too much fresh air, particularly when the air temperature hovers around zero in the winter, and they are difficult to open and close (except for the ones entirely painted shut, which don't open at all.) In the kitchen, there were two small windows side by side over the sink that particularly seemed to hate me. Both broke (more than once) and both were nasty in the winter. When it was cold, I repaired the panes. This summer, when those broke, I simply removed the bottom two panes and substituted aluminum wire screens. That worked as long as the summer lasted, but on the first 35-degree night, we had a cold morning. I taped wax paper over the screen (hey, Laura Ingalls was used to wax-paper windows and considered glass windows a luxury!) and purchased a new window. It was a fairly cheap unit, but it was big, it let in a lot of light, it had a simple sliding mechanism and "Low-E" glass with nitrogen between the panes, and did I mention it was cheap?

Between yesterday and tonight I labored to install the window. I skipped the setup for the IPSC shoot at Lefthanders' Gun Club on Saturday to haul old furniture to the city cleanup days at the dump, and figured I might as well get that window in. Ha, ha, ha. By the time 9:00 PM rolled around, I gave up and My Bride stapled a sheet over the opening. Let it never be said that we don't make an effort to support our neighbors' property values. In my defense, I had a pretty good-sized hole made in the wall by then; it was the installation of the window that was stumping me. Specifically, the hard part was figuring out how to add the right thicknesses of lumber in the right places to get the hole down to a more-or-less standard opening, because NOTHING on my house is standard, or straight, or square. Or level or vertical, of course. The walls are strangely thick, being contstructed of 2x4's which are very nearly four inches wide, sheathed in oak planks exactly one inch thick, covered over with wooden clapboard siding which no one bothered to remove when they installed half-inch thick green foam insulation board, followed by vinyl siding. Getting anything to work is an exercise in patience. I ended up cutting up some old 2x12 boards I had lying around from an old waterbed frame so that I could cut some 2-by-4.75-inch custom lumber to frame the opening.

None of that would have worked very well without my dad. See, I don't have one of those large hand saws you see carpenters use. I have a circular saw, a pull saw for making neat cuts on trim, shims, and other things that aren't right out where you can get at them, and a couple of smaller hand saws for miter boxes. Well, I used to have all those things, but apparently my circular saw has disappeared. I believe there may be a pocket dimension with an entrance somewhere in the closet of the New Bathroom, which concerns me somewhat, but luckily for me, my dad has four circular saws for some reason. The odd thing about my dad and his four circular saws, however, is that he wasn't sure he had one. Then, when he started looking through the antique store warehouse that is his garage, they sort of jumped out at him one after another. The one he loaned me is an ancient Craftsman monster; I'd guess it's from the 1960's. The body is cast, polished aluminum, and the trigger is a simple affair. The carrying case is an elaborate steel suitcase that opens wide like a clamshell, with the saw resting on a platform to which it can be bolted securely for travel. It is a most excellent circular saw, and I am impressed. With it, I was able to make many fast and true cuts, and tonight I finally have the window in, nailed and screwed. It works. There's no trim and no weather-sealing yet, but that will come Tuesday night (the Sangamon County Rifle Association meets tomorrow, and a man needs priorities.)

When I do that, I'll also do exterior trim for the other window I installed quite awhile ago and left looking ghetto, and then I hope to put up siding where the fire stripped it. That will leave only the bay of tall windows looking bare and unfinished, and once the other windows arrive, we'll finish that, too. Then the neighbors' property values should cease to plummet. I hope.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Aaaand . . . we're back.

I'm back! It took a lot of computer parts, a new router to replace my other new router, a lot of phone calls to my ISP, a couple of trips over there (it's a small-town, family-owned business located about three blocks away) and a service call to replace the radio transmitter on the roof, but I have my connection back. My monitor is still in the clutches of Best Buy's Service Minions. The good news on that is that it was covered by the infamous Service Plan. The bad news is that they'd rather repair it than replace it, and their estimated date of return was 37 days into the future. I was OK with that until I found out that it's not actually going to the repair location on one of the Jovian moons (Titan is apparently backlogged at the moment) but to Chicago.
"Chicago, like Chicago, Illinois?" I asked. I wanted to be fair about this; perhaps I'd misunderstood. But nope.
Still, that monitor is a 19" Samsung LCD unit that replaced a 19" Viewsonic CRT that died. The service plan on the CRT covered the Samsung, and is now paying for the repair on the Samsung as well, so for the 50 bucks or so that I spent on the service plan I'm not getting a bad deal at all. Luckily I have friends with components littering their houses, so I was able to borrow an old Gateway. It has issues, but it's looking pretty good at the moment.

  • The Camaro is back in the driveway and my wallet is much lighter. It was a freeze plug, as it turns out, and the mechanic said he tried to make it a cheap job by dropping the starter and sneaking past it, but it was no dice. The exhaust had to come off, and of course the bolts and the exhaust flanges have more or less become one over the years. Still, it's back. Tomorrow it goes to the local exhaust guy to have the cat cut off and the muffler replaced. If it sells soon, it sells. If it doesn't, then at least I have something to drive to St. Louis the weekend after next--the Blackwater Blogger Weekend is that close! Since I have to drive down right after work, and then drive back at about 1:00 a.m. on Monday morning, I really didn't want to make My Bride drive me. I'd have had to find another way, but I'm not sure what it would have been. (The mechanic gave me the freeze plug as a souvenir--a twisted, sawed, ripped and torn mess. "This one's been to war," quoth he, "but I always win in the end.")
  • I have one more IPSC shoot before I go to Blackwater. I'll have to miss next week, since I'll be getting my cavity search at the airport about the time they start.
  • Tomorrow is the first day back for teachers. I can't wait to tell my partner in special-ed crime (a lovely woman, but somewhat . . . . mild-mannered, shall we say?) that I ran into one of our former students . . . . . at an action pistol match. And I'm pretty sure he beat me. He was lucky we were standing still, though: this kid was wearing the requisite cutoff shorts four sizes too big, and he had apparently worked out that his stiff velcro gun belt would sort of cinch his pants in if he tightened it--there'd be no saggin', in other words. So he decided to make the gun belt just as loose, and compensate by constantly yanking his shorts, then his belt, then his shorts, then his . . . . well, there was a lot of yanking going on, all in an upward direction. Anyway, I find this funny. I fully expect her to blanche.
  • I have a new boss. She seems very good, but tough. Frankly I don't know how they talked her into the job. I told my last boss before she left that I wouldn't do her job for any money, and I meant it. Whereas I spend most of the day teaching classes and then far too much of my "free" time doing paperwork, fitting in meetings as required, a Coordinator spends her entire day in IEP meetings chained to a laptop. It's a fate worse than death. This one is supposedly "retired." She works Monday at our school, then Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday at a residential school for kids with profound disabilities, then comes back to us on Fridays. I may not understand retirement, but 5-day weeks of drudgery and meetings would not suit me in retirement. My grandpa is retired, and his emphasis tends more toward gardening, fishing, hunting and picking berries. To each his own, I guess.

Friday, August 8, 2008

I'm Not Dead Yet

Both my computers 'sploded, but I didn't die. I have a borrowed monitor for the desktop and a battery on the way for the laptop, and some hope that I'll be back on a daily basis soon. Right now I'm typing this on my parents' super-fast new machine connected to their super-slow dialup connection. I came down here to steal their newspaper while they're at the antique show, but that's so 20th century. This is too slow to allow me to check my email via the web client, so if you sent me an email, I haven't gotten it. Sorry.

A few things I've been doing while not posting much:
  • More IPSC shooting, using the P220 and the Glock 30. Still not placing last. My new goal is to finish in the top 50% of Production class. Last night was a relatively boring classifier match, just three targets on each side of a barrier with a mandatory reload before switching sides, with no-shoots between each target and the next. But it was a big night for the boys, since they both got to go. Last week, Donovan made it, but Kane's behavior just wasn't up to par. Last night, we stayed until the end as Kane picked up brass and pasted targets and generally charmed everybody.
  • Refinished the old P220 using Lauer's DuraCoat in "HK Black." Years ago, pre-child, the gun was between the mattress and frame of a waterbed when my dog punctured the mattress and flooded the frame (and then the bedroom.) My SIG was built in 1989 and has that awesome SIG-Sauer bluing that was essentially surface prep for rust. I stripped all that rust but then left the thing in the white for the longest time.
    This week I fixed that. The HK Black DuraCoat worked really well, although the airbrush didn't really start working until I ditched the CO2 canister and hooked up the air compressor. It turns out that it matched the coating on the aluminum frame perfectly. So far, it's been impervious to everything I've done to it. I'm still experimenting with colors for the bar and dot in the sights. I'll probably go back to white, but I'm using metallic gold in the front right now and it's kind of neat--like shooting an old revolver with a gold bead.
  • I went nuts on laundry the other day and actually got all of our laundry done. There was no dirty laundry anywhere in the house. It lasted almost an hour.
  • I'm working on finding out what I have to do to get my Master's finished this year. I believe my certification requirements have been met, but I would only need one more class to get the Master's. Might as well.
  • Still working on that upstairs bathroom I started so long ago. It's been a great summer, but it's been busy. I offered to make a bet with My Bride that the bathroom would be done by Christmas, but she declined. Maybe she's learning not to underestimate me. That would be nice.
  • Today I cleaned our bedroom. This sounds like a small thing, but the clutter in there was unbelievable.
  • Tomorrow the Camaro goes to the Chevy dealership. I've managed to convince myself that the heater core and its connections are fine, and the intake manifold doesn't seem to be leaking, but I finally noticed that when I pour water into the radiator, it actually runs out from somewhere on the passenger side of the block, apparently below the exhaust manifold. I can't see it, but it's a steady stream until the water runs out. I'm worried that they're going to tell me that the block has actually cracked and there's water pouring out of the water passage in the block itself. That would probably cost more to fix than the car is worth. Then the question becomes this:
    Do I go full-on redneck and part out a Camaro in my backyard? Or do I try to sell it to some kid who wants to throw a 350 in there?

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Bleg: Calling All Mechanics

UPDATE: From comments, it sounds like the original suspicion of the heater hoses or their fittings was closer. These are the hoses for a 1995 Camaro with a 3.4L V6. I'll pull the hoses today and see what I can see. I'm hoping it's an issue with the fittings on the hoses themselves, and not on the heater assembly. I'm imagining a lot more work if that's the case.
********************

I'm trying to get my old Camaro fixed up and sold before school starts. On Friday, I wanted to take the boys to their "camps" and go get some shooting in, since I'd be stuck in nearly-beautiful Springfield for a few hours anyway (City Motto: "Proud Home of Abraham Lincoln's Opium Habit.") Unfortunately, on the way to Springfield, the air in the Camaro grew very warm. Then I noticed that the heat gauge, which reads from 160 to 260 degrees, was pegged at the hot end. That ain't good.

We made it to a service station with a sandwich shop and I called the cavalry and bought the boys lunch so they wouldn't resort to cannibalism (we had over a half-hour to wait.) The engine compartment was full of vapor, but the smell inside the passenger compartment wasn't very strong at all. There was a growing puddle of orange coolant on the ground under the car. After my wife arrived and we took the boys to their stuff, we bought a few gallons of water and drove the Camaro home. It was getting hot by the time we made it home (only about a 10-mile drive, if that) but it made it without adding more water along the way.

I suspected a 'sploded heater core, but my dad pointed out that this should fill the cabin with sweet, sweet coolant fumes. So I suspected a blown attachment where a heater hose connects to the firewall.

So today I needed to jump-start my old truck anyway, and to kill two birds I started the Camaro and let it run. No leaks. I checked, and it was low on water, so I added some, but . . . . still no leaks. Then I looked inside the car--the heat was pegged again. This is making me suspect the water pump is dead, and all the leakage Friday was from the pump's release holes. The problem with that theory is that I was sure the coolant vapor clouds were coming from the rear passenger side of the engine compartment--which is also where the hoses go into the heater core. I have a long history of love-hate with GM water pumps. The hate is paid in full; I expect the love to start any year now. I was too chicken to open up the radiator or a hose with the engine so hot (though the radiator itself didn't feel very hot at all--another reason I think coolant is not circulating.) So I figure tomorrow I'll disconnect a hose and see if the pump is circulating water. If it is, water should shoot out of the hose, even if the thermostat hasn't opened yet, right? I don't think a water pump on this thing would be a HUGE deal, but I thought I'd ask and see if anyone has a better idea.

What's puzzling me here is why I can't induce a leak today? I had more or less pure water running in an engine above 260 degrees. It boiled at around 212 degrees, right? Why isn't it shooting out all over the place?

UPDATE: From comments, it sounds like the original suspicion of the heater hoses or their fittings was closer. These are the hoses for a 1995 Camaro with a 3.4L V6. I'll pull the hoses today and see what I can see. I'm hoping it's an issue with the fittings on the hoses themselves, and not on the heater assembly. I'm imagining a lot more work if that's the case.

Saturday, July 19, 2008

The View From the Porch

No, silly, not that porch. My porch, freshly painted.Not a bad spot to spend a few minutes solving the world's problems. Yesterday, though, I saw something there I haven't seen before. Notice anything odd?



I'm not sure what they are--maybe red-tailed hawks? There were three of them hopping around my front porch. I imagine they were hunting the local rabbits or maybe the big garter snake that lives under the porch. Not something I see every day!



Saturday, May 31, 2008

Huddled in a Basement



Well, we did the midwest spring ritual last night, heading down to the basement to wait out some storms. Tornadoes touched down a few miles north and west of us, but none actually in our town. It's been a bad year for tornadoes all across the nation this year; probably more than a few people who read this have spent their own evenings in the basement.

We really can't complain; we had a lot of warning. We had apples and crackers, sodas for the kids, folding chairs, and the baby's play pen. We had a radio, and we had a book or two. I read to the boys from The Last Ivory Hunter, Capstick's book about Wally Johnson's life in Mozambique.

We did learn one valuable lesson as a family: Our basement is a filthy, muddy, dark dungeon that's got to get cleaned out this summer.

Of course, I think I recall learning that same lesson last spring.






Saturday, April 12, 2008

JOY!

My new best friend, Keith, is in the kitchen right now. Right this moment. You wanna know why Keith is my new best friend?

Because Keith is delivering my new washing machine and dryer, and Keith is doing all the work. We have so much in common! I mean, we're both bald, and . . . . well, the most important thing we have in common is that I was not looking forward to getting these things into place and getting them working, and Keith gets paid to do that for me so I can sit around blogging or something equally useless.

How elderly am I? I'm very excited about my new washing machine. We got huge-capacity models that are supposed to use a third of the water we were using before, so we should spend less time on laundry, which is good, because if we let it build up we can easily kill an entire Saturday or Sunday running loads of laundry through our ancient, mismatched laundry appliances. Mock me if you must. I don't care.

Monday, March 17, 2008

Communication Is Key (Now With Photos)


It's OK to pre-heat your oven. It's a good idea, in fact.

It's OK to use the oven as an impromptu hiding place for things you don't want little hands to clutch or touch. I mean, who hasn't done this? It's done.

But if one person uses the oven to hide a large Tupperware cake pan full of iced sugar cookies from the kids before she leaves for work in the morning, and some other person pre-heats the oven to 450* Fahrenheit to make dinner in the evening, without checking the oven first, there will be smoke. And flame. Pools of flaming plastic will puddle up on the bottom of the oven. It helps if you had the foresight to place the cookie tub on the broiler pan to contain the plastic, and it's nice to have an 11-year-old to ask, "Should the oven be smoking like that?"

The cookies will be surprisingly well-preserved as long as you don't hit them with the fire extinguisher, but you should probably throw them out anyway, and the garlic bread will come out just fine on the grill.

I just thought you should all know.

Sunday, January 20, 2008

Victory!


When last we discussed The Nursery, it looked more or less like this. Then I started scraping and sanding drywall. And scraping. Then sanding. Then putting up more mud, since I'd ruined it . . . . and then scraping, and sanding, and quitting, and wishing I'd never started. Drywall finishing is an art, and I'm not the artistic type. If I can't construct a jig or use a straightedge to make it happen, it'll probably look like I was drinking when I made it. Finally, I just decided that the perfect was the enemy of the good and set out to do it all one more time and then paint no matter what it looked like. Of course, what some of you old hands already knew is that you can't judge the wall by what it looks like without paint or trim, which leads us to the current photos:

This is what the north wall looks like now. The window turned out better than I expected. If you look very closely, you can see that the window is not quite aligned with the trim work. I can see it much more clearly in real life, but no one else has commented on it yet. The choice was between making the window work in the opening or making everything square, and I went with function. Then the choice was whether to skew the trim the same way to hide it, but it seemed simpler to make the trim level and get over it, so I did. The corners aren't perfectly straight, either, and never would have been, so rather than give up on having multicolored walls, I moved the transition two inches or so to the right in each corner. That let me use a laser plumb to make them just right, and you have to look closely to see that the corners aren't square since both sides are the same color. All in all, not bad. My grandpa taught me long ago that the difference between a professional and an amateur is that the professional knows how to hide mistakes. Grandpa was a pipefitter by trade, so that might not have been the healthiest attitude for him to have, but it's working for me so far.

Here's the floor, which also exceeding expectations. Way to be, floor! Most rooms in the house started life with really nice hardwood floors, but were covered with cheap carpet at some point. Then, as nearly as we can tell, farm animals were introduced into the house and allowed to lay claim to various portions of the home by urinating and defecating on that carpet. But there are few problems that can't be solved by careful and responsible applications of overkill, so one giant sander later, this is the result. There's actually some patchwork against the far wall, but it blended well and is hard to see in the photo. All these rooms originally had plaster-on-lath walls, which we tore out because A) they were sagging and breaking down in places, and you need to be an artist to repair them, and B) we needed to rewire totally in every room, so we figured we might as well go back to bare studs. Plaster-on-lath involves laying thin wooden lath across the studs, then slathering on layers of plaster "mud" over the framework until a smooth, uniform surface results. This means the walls are thick--tear it out, and your flooring might end two inches out from the studs, so if you just throw 1/2-inch drywall and trim up there, you have a gap. It also means nobody cared much about how square the fronts of the studs were, because they were going to slather an inch or more of plaster on top of them and smooth the plaster. That means that if you just hang drywall on the studs the way you would in a modern house, it will resemble a skate park seen from above. Some spots will be flat, others will gently undulate like the soft green hills of Dear Old Eire, and some may resemble nothing so much as a series of cliffs and ramps.
The upside is that I expect the next few rooms to be a lot easier to finish now that I've done this one.

Here you can see the pocket door peeking out of its pocket. The room really is as small as it looks above, and you can see that the hallway is not huge--it might be 40 inches wide. The pocket doors make this possible. That door is going to be painted blue this morning to contrast better with the green wall--too much of that green is overwhelming.
You can also see the back of some of that plaster-and-lath I talked about above. It's supposed to look that sloppy from behind; the first layer of mud is slathered on and allowed to ooze through the slats to "key" it--that locked it to the wall and made the whole thing pretty solid. The bricks are the chimney that runs through the center of the house. We had high hopes that there could be a fireplace on the ground floor, but it turns out the chimney was built purely for coal. I've been told that when this house was built, it was considered a sign of class to heat one's house exclusively with coal and not wood fires. Anyway, there's no fireplace at the bottom and the unlined chimney is disintegrating on us. This spring we'll install high-efficiency furnace and water heater and then start removing the chimney. That will give us more space in two rooms and a hallway, plus allow us to seal the last opening in our roof. With the bathrooms venting into the attic space with newfangled valves, the roof should last a long time.

















And stepping out and to our left, we can see what's NOT done. :) This bathroom is next, followed by the back bedroom you can see through the doorway in the picture on the left. When those two projects are done, every member of the family will have his own bedroom within a few steps of a full bath. Life will be significantly less crazy . . . I think.