Tag Archives: electrical wiring

The DPO strikes again

Posted on by
2

Anyone who, like me, owns a historic vehicle (mine is a 1962 MGB Roadster) will know the acronym DPO. It stands for Damned Previous Owner, and crosses our lips each time we come across some inexplicable previous ‘fix’ that makes what should be simple maintenance fiendishly complicated . I should say here that my good friend Colin, who owned the MG before me, most definitely is not a DPO. But the other guy before him….

Our home-cum-shop (for those who don’t know, we live on the second floor, the books on the first) has had more than its fair share of DPOs—particularly when it comes to electrical work over the years. We were first alerted when we had lights fitted to our shop sign recently; the contractor took me aside and said, “Lemme show ya somethin.”

I admit to a certain amount of trepidation as he led me into the basement, where he pointed out ancient, mouse-chewed wiring snaking gaily over copper water pipes.  “See ‘em?” his stubby finger jabbed at the wires. I reached up. He grabbed my wrist and said, “’Ems live.”

“Ehms live?” I repeated dully in my Scots accent. He gave me a confused look and spoke slowly: “You have electricity near copper. ‘Ats bad. Real bad. Get ‘er fixed.”

Accents have caused many moments in the six years we’ve been here. But the copper pipes and live wires were sparking serious concern, so part of our plan in redoing the basement was to, indeed, get ‘er fixed.

Our obliging friend and electrical guru (who would be known in Scotland as a ‘sparkie’), Leroy arrived with his trusty toolbox and we left our wives upstairs talking books as he and I descended into the bowels of the basement. Trying to make sense of the mixture of ancient and modern wiring down there, time swore on—not wore, but swore, I assure you.

But the air turned blue with terror when he opened up the main light fitting to discover almost every wire in the place was going in and out of there, including one that went into a wall and then came straight back out again and another that went to yet another light fitting that was inexplicably bricked up inside yet another wall.

See, electrical wiring is sort of like writing: it should have a clear beginning and a purpose for its movements, and it should reach a destination where it does something meaningful. And perhaps have a source from which it draws its power. Neither wires nor words should meander about sparking without intent.

Leroy and I got some sense restored and all the ancient bare wires disconnected without causing any problems in the house; the girls only shrieked once, when all the house lights went out as we tested which circuit went to what. All we need to do now is work out how and why the outlets in the kitchen are on the same circuit as the lights in the bathroom and mystery room, and then we’ll be able to stop cursing the DPOs – for the moment – – –

Meanwhile the non-electrical work in ‘Tutankhamen’s Tomb’ continues apace –

The hidden fitting

The hidden fitting

 

 

 

a new wall takes shape

a new wall takes shape

the infamous windows

the infamous windows

 

 

 

 

101 Creative Curses for Bookshop Handymen

Posted on by
14

Regular followers of this blog may remember that I discovered a hidden staircase in our basement. Three rooms of unused space, accessible from inside the house? It was inevitable: Wendy “requested” that the stair be re-opened, and (my) work commenced. I said at the time that I should have kept my mouth firmly shut, but – hey, ho – I never was any good at that!basement stair

Other part-time DIYers will nod knowingly when I say that any project is a voyage of discovery, because things rarely go as expected. My first step down the path of the absurd was to decide that the basement’s four hopper windows needed replacing. Original to this 1903 house, they were rotten and falling apart.

“It won’t take long, and it will keep the basement watertight,” I told Wendy as I unloaded window frames from our pick-up, “Unnecessary” (That’s the truck’s name. Don’t ask.)

Ah, the best-laid plans of mice and men…. The closest size of ready-made window almost fit the first opening; none of the openings were quite the same dimension. Adjustments were required, usually involving a hammer, lumber, and curse words strung inventively together.

The next “not to plan” moment: water pipes in the underfloor staircase space had to be removed and the washing machine relocated to the garage and plumbed in again. Luckily our good friends Leroy and Witold were on hand when sealing off the old pipes proved difficult and frustrating. I hate water leaks!

But I was yet to meet the bigger leak (and further plan diversion): four days of continuous rain led to the discovery that rainwater simply ran off into the yard, and that our bone-dry basement wasn’t always so clear as I’d thought. There will be digging to do, if this bloody rain ever stops. I have been concerned by the parade of spider species exiting the basement in pairs; rumor has it that Noah picked them up.

IMG_3513Finally, windowsills, torrential rains, pipes and all, I got to the grand re-opening of the staircase (which we promptly christened Tutankhamen’s tomb). No steps were the same size; the old washing machine pipes proved near impossible to cut out; all the electrical cables running through the space had to be maneuvered to the side where they can be boxed in.

With all that done, at last I could re-build the steps using the old ones as supports. This will not be public bookshop space, as we originally envisioned. Wendy is making noises about moving our bedroom down there.

Renovations reveal all kinds of hints at the history of the house, and conducting friends around the work (where we found yet another hidden staircase; no, Wendy, no) has proved fascinating—although speaking of conducting, we found yet another problem: old electric cables down there are live, despite going nowhere, which will mean yet more scary stuff further along.

Did I mention spiders?