This Old Motherfucking House: Episode III

Episode III: The Smoking Outlet

In Episode I, Colder Than A Witch's Tit, we watched Cowbell tackle home heating issues in the crawlspace.

Episode II, Snakes in a Drain, found the Cowbell family in a race against nature while battling blocked pipes.

Tonight, watch Cowbell scramble for the breaker box in today's shocking conclusion, The Smoking Outlet.


You know that old saying about bad things coming in threes? Yeah. But first, an update on that furnace bullshit from episode one.

So I spent an entire day on the furnace problem. The special order filters arrived. I measured, cut, wrapped, clamped, and dragged the whole maddening mess down to that coldass bitch called a furnace. The hammock didn't want to slide back in exactly right. Turns out I had the clamps on backward. The door didn't want to screw back on. I used a lot of duct tape on the door. There was cursing involved, and yes, some kicking. Not hard -- couldn't really draw back for a big wind up, given the limited space.

Also, I got that hole in the duct work repaired, which was a real bitch. It took hours and involved using a metal thing shaped like a Popsicle stick to reach the areas my fingers couldn't. You try getting duct tape into a space that small without it sticking in the wrong place, while achieving an airtight seal, and see how cheery your ass stays. I tried to pry off part of the wall to give me more room to work, only to find my insulation is not the modern-day, pink fiberglass style with a cartoon character on the back. My insulation is old school. As in sawdust. Prying off the wall would mean losing my insulation. Thus the Popsicle-stick method.

But it was done. I was sore, my hands were torn up, and I was pissy as hell, but it was done. And I didn't have to pay the furnace guy. Score! We were more than ready for some heat.

Ten minutes later, the power went out.

Seattle does not weather wind storms well. The power did not come back on until the next day. Our house, of course, had not even built up any residual heat to hold onto. All that work, for naught.

Remembering last year's big wind storm, I dragged Teen Demon back under the house with me to wrap the water heater in the special water-heater blanket, so we could at least hold onto the hot water for a while. That was another hour and a half, more cursing, more duct tape. No kicking. You try custom cutting fiberglass shit hunched over in a dark crawl space with a neurotic dog pacing and howling overhead, and see how foul-mouthed you get.



Anyway. That's how the heating thing went down. The drains are steady and holding.

Which brings us to Episode III in this little DIY saga. So last week, I smell this plasticky, icky smell in my room. It's 4am, Teen Demon is waking my disoriented ass up to take her to the airport for a college visit. (They flew her out, trying to recruit her ass. Score, Teen Demon.) I noticed the smell, but forgot about it. A couple of days after, I go up to bed, same smell, but stronger. Like burning plastic. I narrow it down to my electrical outlet. Being no fool, I immediately unplug the lamp and go for my flashlight. (After the furnace and water heater fun, I'm surprised it has any juice left, but it does.) In the narrow beam of the flashlight, I see smoke coming out of my outlet.

Great. Fucking great.

So all that money I saved not calling the plumber and the furnace guy will now be added to even more money to call an electrician, the most powerful of all the Home Improvement Cadre.

Using my powers of observation and deduction, I realize that both episodes happened when the dryer was running. The dryer is in the garage, directly below my outlet. It's supposed to be a dedicated 220v outlet. (pleaseplease tell me some past homeowner didn't try splice into that line to create the outlet in my room...) The burning smell and the smoke were rising up through the wall and coming through my outlet. Now, I can replace a regular outlet -- I put in a GFCI outlet in the kitchen last year -- but that's regular 110v. electricity. Ain't no way in hell I'm messing with the 220v. electricity on that dryer. I got shocked by 220 once in Germany. Don't want to relive that.

Fuck.

So we've been hanging out at the laundromat. In all our spare time. Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion of ... This Old Motherfucking House. Actually, don't even let me tell that lie. The conclusion won't be until I sell this bitch. So stay tuned for further updates and comic relief. Yeah. Fun times.