We spent most of the winter pretty frozen. The house is drafty, oil is expensive, and it was a ridiculously cold winter. I shoveled snow until I had callouses through my Thinsulate gloves while Dear Husband basked in warmer climes grrrrr. I shouldn't complain too much though. I was with him in those "warmer climes" when our pipe burst in the laundry room. Russ just didn't think it would get that cold in the uninsulated addition to the house. He'll learn. Just like he knows not to tough that faded red "light switch" on the basement stairs. Shoot me a message if you don't know what that "light switch" controls.
No serious damage from the laundry room burst (more on the consequences in June's update) just a wet floor. The water gushed out the back door to avoid further internal damage and Mom arrived on the scene to turn it off before we iced over the neighborhood. I hauled laundry to mom's house until Russ "fixed" the pipes (more on that later). It always could be worse ... no basins of soapy water to hand wash our clothes ... nor chapped knuckles to show for such a desperate undertaking!
The temperatures dropped to minus 10-15 one night. The next morning Russ was scheduled to call from "warmer climes." I woke up early to wash my face and ... no water came out of the pipe. I rubbed my eyes and thought I was loosing it. I did what any woman home alone in a big drafty house would do, I called the parent most likey to be able to "fix it."
Mom suggested I get in touch with an uncle in the next town who might know someone more local to help me out with what sounded like a frozen pipe. In this succinct retelling of this episode, I will loose the emotional drama of the moment. I'd just like to note that for most of the morning I was close to tears and terrified that my house was going to implode. Two family friends arrived on the scene and saved the day with the tools required to open up the wall and safely unfreeze a pipe that snaked across the entry way and over my 100 year old wood staircase. Disaster was avoided!!
They suggested that the next night I keep a space heater blowing on the portion of the uninsulated pipe that turned at a right angle to drop to the basement along a very cold external wall. That night the temperatures again dropped well below zero. I turned the space heater on and prayed. I have heard horror stories about electric heaters and I was alone navigating these treacherous homeowning obstacles. I didn't want to mess up. I took a pile of blankets and a bucket of water up to the second floor with me before I went to bed. I tossed all night and checked on the heater constantly to be sure it wasn't going to overheat and start a fire in my 100-year old wood frame home.
I woke up early, checked the water flow in the bathroom which had been on a steady drip since yesterday, dashed down the stairs and turned the heater off. Something smelled funny. I followed the heater cord around the corner into the living room where it hooked up with an extension plug to the wall; there are so few wall sockets in this house. I did a double take and wrenched the still-warm heater cord from the extension cord. I almost burnt my house down ... despite my precautions. The plug was melted and mangled; never to be used again. I laughed at my second brush with disaster as I couldn't with the first.
I survived and everything turned out okay, so I can laugh. I am a homeowner.
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