This was one of the reasons I dreaded even thinking of remodeling. Bathrooms involve plumbing, and plumbing involves checking for leaks, as I described last time. My father taught me how to do it, and I would really enjoy it if I did not have such a negative memory about it. Just before I got married, my father had me plumb the house he was building. It was in December of 1976. I got it all done, so there were no leaks when I turned the water on. Very pleased with myself, I went home, forgetting one very important item: To turn off the water.
It got down to 20 degrees that night. As you ought to know, water freezes at 32. Of course, we were not heating the house at that time, and, you guessed it, the pipes froze, and broke in several places. When I came back the next morning, there were leaks everywhere. Some of them took months, possibly even years to find.
When I went to work on the downstairs bathroom, there had been a slow leak down there for probably half the time we had been in the house (fourteen years) The sheetrock was wet underneath the vanity, and along the whole wall, and it was black from mildew. When I touched it, it fell off the wall. Why had I not done anything about it? Because it was downstairs, out of sight. The kids might have complained a little, maybe even a lot, but until then, it fell on deaf ears.
So, when I went down there to assess the situation, I was shocked. I didn't dare to accusingly ask the kids why they hadn't said more, for fear they had and I just hadn't been listening. Mumbling unpleasantries under my breath, I yanked out the sheetrock, which makes such a huge mess, and then turned off the spigots under the sink, and ripped it out. It was a tiny little vanity that was really not big enough for full sized people. Then, with a vengeance, I came up to the shower. It was tiny, two feet by twenty inches, not really big enough for an adult. Since the bathroom was four feet wide, I couldn't see why the builders had installed such a tiny shower. I made the assumption it was to accommodate pipes that must have been behind the wall where the shower could have been.
It was a one piece, prefabricated shower stall unit, (but I don't know where they found it, unless there was a manufacturing plant in Bangladesh, where they make people really thin) and I had to destroy it to get it out of there. Since I didn't have, and never would have a place to put it anyway, I indulged myself with the youthful pleasure of destroying something, and hammered it to bits, carefully hammering when I got to the inside parts, not wanting to harm the nest of plumbing I would find in the wall.
But to my surprise, there was nothing in the wall, other than the copper piping which serviced that shower. The space between the wall and the prefab unit was empty. I had to think about it a while before I realized why.
The shower was an afterthought. Since this was in the basement, when they built the house, they had not been planning on finishing it. At some point, they had decided they would finish it, but they ended their project with the bathroom. At that point, all the doors were framed, and all the sheetrock was in place. The only shower stall that could fit through all the doors and around all the corners was the starvation unit they used.
I had bought an American Standard shower tub that happened to fit the bathroom perfectly, and which the designer of the house had in mind when he or she drew up the dimensions. I had to shim it in a few places, and had to cut back the firring on the outside wall (remember, this was a basement) but Murphy's law taken into consideration, it went in smoothly. Then I put Hardy Backer (cement board) on the walls, then tiled the whole thing with twelve inch tile. This particular tile cost about $1.15 per tile at Home Depot, in a very nice color. I made the joints tight, and I extended the tile a foot beyond the shower. After it was grouted and cleaned up, it looked really good. We bought a shower door at Lowe's, and it operated smoothly, better than any shower door I'd ever had dealings with. By the time I was finished, my attitude about the shower had completely transformed. I wanted to take my showers downstairs. Only the knowledge that it wouldn't be terribly long before the upstairs was just as nice kept me from doing it.
There was nothing wrong with the toilet, except it was in an unacceptable bathroom, so I replaced it. The new one was an American Standard, using less water per flush, and it was more comfortable than the old one had been. I replaced the needed sheetrock, then put in a toilet topper cabinet for toilet paper, reading material, Game Boys or whatever else people need for entertainment while they're multi-tasking on the wall above the toilet. It looked nice too.
Then I turned my attention to the vanity. It had sat in a space wide enough to accommodate a four foot sink, but we decided on something else. Since this was the bathroom the kids would ordinarily use, we thought it might be nice if we put in two vanities, with a dressing mirror. The plumbing was a little tricky, but I accomplished it. Both sinks worked perfectly. We ordered a special 16 inch countertop to go between the two vanities, and I installed a little bit of tile over the countertop. A girl could sit on the stool, look in the mirror and do her makeup, hair, or whatever else she does that takes a half hour. I put in a large mirrored cabinet on the other wall, so girls sitting on the little stool could see the backs of their heads, just to make sure everything was all right.
Of course, I didn't think of any of this. When I say 'we' in the above paragraph, I really mean 'my wife.' I only said 'we' because even though it was her idea, I had to put it in.
But this does bring up an important point. If you ever decide to build a house or remodel, don't presume you can do it without any outside input. When you are working on areas of the house where your spouse spends more time than you do, (and for most men the only place they might spend more time is one specific place in the bathroom, or the garage) let your spouse give you input about her desires. Some of them may not be possible, but most of them will be, if you allow yourself a little imagination. It's true. And the nicest thing is, when you get done, you'll have a wife that is really happy, and she'll tell you multiple times. And you can get some good mileage out of that.
The last thing we changed in the bathroom was the flooring. When we moved into the house, there was carpet on all the bathroom floors. I don't know everyone that lived in the house before we did, but I can see only three possibilities. Either the bathroom floors stunk all the time, no men lived in the house, or they had been trained to go sitting down. There isn't a man alive, from whatever age he learns to do it outside the diaper through youth and middle age, up through dotage, who hits a dead ringer every time, without dribbles, in spite of the ample target. Not only that, toilets flood sometimes, and showers or baths splash out on the carpet. Who in their right mind carpets a bathroom? Either an idiot or a terrible optimist.
Needless to say, I had taken the carpet out soon after we arrived. Underneath it, I found, to my great surprise-- linoleum. Perfectly acceptable linoleum. I think there was a fad in the eighties, somehow created by the carpet lobby, for carpeted bathrooms.
So we bought a nice piece of linoleum that matched the tile in the shower and installed it. We bought a type that is weighted to sit where it is placed without glue. It cost about seven dollars a square foot, but once it was in place, it looked great. More than anything else we had done, it transformed the bathroom. From being a place where we never allowed guests to go, it became the first room we showed off. I had torn out walls, replaced sheetrock, replumbed three fixtures, tiled and linoleumed, placed vanities and other cabinets, redone the baseboard, rehung a couple doors that had holes where kids had kicked them when their siblings had barricaded themselves in the bathroom, redone the door trim, textured the ceiling (after I had patched it with a two by three foot piece of sheetrock) where a large hole had developed from a leak in the upstairs bathroom, (I fixed the leak, of course) and just for good measure, changed the light fixtures.
It was a new room, and especially compared to what it had been, it looked spectacular. I might have grumbled when I started it, but I was very happy when I was finished. And, it may be just my fancy, but it seemed like my kids stayed cleaner. I'm positive the backs of my daughters' heads were in better order.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Saturday, January 5, 2008
The Laundry Room
Even though I worked on this project off and on throughout the duration of the remodel, I will chronicle it now because I had to address it immediately after we finished the kitchen. As I mentioned before, we had trouble with quite a bit of calcium build up in the water. This was most flagrantly obvious in the dishwasher.
It was a problem area from the beginning of our sojourn in the house. The first dishwasher came with the place, and had a problem with one of the plastic runners that allowed the bottom tray to slide in and out. In their always unenthusiastic and sometimes violent usage of the dishwasher, our children forced the tray open, which bent the track, causing the bottom heating element into the plastic bottom of the body of the dishwasher, melting it clean through. At that point, any time we decided to use the dishwasher, we were also deciding to flood the kitchen and wash the edges of the carpets on either side. So we got a new dishwasher, a Kitchen Aid, with the steel tub. It worked great—until it got literally clogged up with white sludge. It was the built up calcium from our water.
There had been a water softener when we first moved into the house, and it worked, but it started leaking, and it overflowed a couple of times, so I took it out, telling my wife in all my denial that the water wasn't that hard. Rather than leave the connections there, I cut them out and soldered solid pipe in its place, thinking that any joint would be a place where calcium would have a chance to accumulate. We went without water softening for eleven years, and I shudder to think of the struggles our water had to make through the gauntlet of built up sludge to find its way into our sinks, hoses, toilets, tubs and showers.
A brand new, modern kitchen needs to have a dishwasher, and now I knew that in order for a dishwasher to last more than a year in our place with water so hard it puts diamonds to shame, I knew I had to put in a water softener. And that meant major plumbing revision. All of that kind of plumbing was in the laundry room.
It was my least favorite room in the house for several reasons. It had a cement floor that looked like the concrete had been finished after it had already set, which means it had humps and valleys all across it. The dryer, which vents outside, was not set against the outside wall, because the washer hookups were. During the course of massive laundry loads (we raised a large, laundry intensive family in the house), the dryer vent had become disengaged from the dryer, and the dryer had spewed its very moist, lint filled exhaust into the room, which resulted in moldy, peeling, hideous sheetrock.
I fixed the dryer vent several times, but only half-heartedly. When I got really serious, I invested about 20 dollars in a secure hose and large hose clamps, and it worked perfectly, but the (lint) cows were already out of the barn by then.
So before I did anything else down there, except replumb for the well, I put a white Masonite siding over the peeling sheetrock. It didn't look all that great when I was done, but it looked about forty times better, allowing me to go in and do the rest of the work I needed to do.
Swallowing all my uneasiness (it takes courage to cut main plumbing lines. In the process of soldering everything together, it becomes exceedingly difficult to assure that there are no leaks anywhere. The only way to find them is to turn the water back on, and if there happens to be a large leak, the ceiling, floor, walls, windows (and maybe even neighbor’s house if the windows are open) get watered. Turning off the water, emptying the pipes (soldering will not take if there is any water in the system) is exceedingly tedious, especially when it is necessary, and it always is, to heat the leaky joint, pull the pipes apart, sand down all the solder, apply the flux and try again) I cut open the main line and got to work. I had to put in a filter which sits in the line ahead of the water softener, eliminating sand, clay, small fish (just kidding about the fish) and other larger sludge. We bought a General Electric Filter, which needs to be changed every three months or so, but makes a huge difference. It hangs in the main water line, happily doing it's job, with a blue light that will flash and an annoying beep that will sound when it needs to be changed.
Next, with huge ambition, I soldered together a system that would allow me to divert the water around the softener if I wanted. It required 22 soldering joints, and it took me an entire precious Saturday to put in. I would have been proud of it, except it leaked in three places, one of which I couldn't locate. Eventually, I took it out. It cut the water pressure down because it shunted the water through half inch pipe when it had been using three quarter inch. I almost cried when I saw my masterpiece sitting on the back porch waiting for recycle, with its loose ends, like a mutant octopus, jutting out randomly in all directions.
And as it turned out, my efforts to put in a shunting system were foolish. The softener itself had one built into it. We picked ours up at Home Depot for about three hundred fifty dollars. It was quite nifty, because everything happened in a single unit, which I put next to the water heater. But the way I did it, the thing opened against the wall, and the salt (all softeners I know of need salt to recharge the system) could not be conveniently poured in. Naturally, (it may not seem natural to you but unfortunately it is to me) I had put it in backwards.
I had to turn off the water, drain the system and redo twelve solder joints to do it. It worked just fine in its backwards state, but it wasn't satisfactory, and I knew it. Usually my wife is the one that tells me it just isn't going to work the way it is, but in this case, I figured it out for myself.
And, I have to admit, it was worth it. The system worked perfectly and he MLB (massive lime buildup) ceased.
The water heater was next. I had replaced four of them in our fourteen years because the sludge that built up on the heating units (because we didn't have a water softener) caused them to burn out. Eventually my wife found heating units that had a different configuration, designed not to build up, and they had worked great for about eight years, but the tank was filling up with lime and because of the septic tank backing up (that's a problem we fixed later) the bottom was rotting away. So I bought heater number five, the privileged one, that was going to have all the fresh water that entered it filtered and softened. As I installed it, I felt kind of bad that its predecessors had been so deprived. (Kind of like the younger children getting stuff you couldn't afford when the older kids were little)
Compared to what I'd already done, the water heater was a snap. I didn't have to do any rerouting or soldering for it. Mainly, I drained the old one, (turned off the power) undid the wiring, unscrewed two pipes, the inlet and the outlet, hollered for my boys to help me move it out, then while they were there, had them help me move the new one in, screwed in the inlet and outlet pipes, attached the wiring, turned on the power and the water and voila! There it was, working perfectly, leak free. (I have to mention the leak free part because it is quite unusual)
The laundry room was essentially done, but I had one more thing I wanted to do, aside from the painting, window blinds, curtains, light fixtures, shelving, and other minor details my wife insisted on, that I didn't want to do. It needed a large tub with a big drain to wash out muddy boots, ice chest, kitchen wastebaskets and other jobs to large and gross for the kitchen sink or a bathtub. I had considered putting one in before but thought it too hard, but after what I'd just been through, it was a breeze. I tapped into the drain for the washer, and atttached the pipes without too much difficulty. Then I put Y connectors on the washing machine hookups and attached rubber pipes to both for my hot and cold water. The tub was great, and very handy, and it really bugs me that for thirteen and a half years, my wife didn't have it. If I had just tried a little harder to be creative, our boots would have been a lot cleaner.
Even though I worked on this project off and on throughout the duration of the remodel, I will chronicle it now because I had to address it immediately after we finished the kitchen. As I mentioned before, we had trouble with quite a bit of calcium build up in the water. This was most flagrantly obvious in the dishwasher.
It was a problem area from the beginning of our sojourn in the house. The first dishwasher came with the place, and had a problem with one of the plastic runners that allowed the bottom tray to slide in and out. In their always unenthusiastic and sometimes violent usage of the dishwasher, our children forced the tray open, which bent the track, causing the bottom heating element into the plastic bottom of the body of the dishwasher, melting it clean through. At that point, any time we decided to use the dishwasher, we were also deciding to flood the kitchen and wash the edges of the carpets on either side. So we got a new dishwasher, a Kitchen Aid, with the steel tub. It worked great—until it got literally clogged up with white sludge. It was the built up calcium from our water.
There had been a water softener when we first moved into the house, and it worked, but it started leaking, and it overflowed a couple of times, so I took it out, telling my wife in all my denial that the water wasn't that hard. Rather than leave the connections there, I cut them out and soldered solid pipe in its place, thinking that any joint would be a place where calcium would have a chance to accumulate. We went without water softening for eleven years, and I shudder to think of the struggles our water had to make through the gauntlet of built up sludge to find its way into our sinks, hoses, toilets, tubs and showers.
A brand new, modern kitchen needs to have a dishwasher, and now I knew that in order for a dishwasher to last more than a year in our place with water so hard it puts diamonds to shame, I knew I had to put in a water softener. And that meant major plumbing revision. All of that kind of plumbing was in the laundry room.
It was my least favorite room in the house for several reasons. It had a cement floor that looked like the concrete had been finished after it had already set, which means it had humps and valleys all across it. The dryer, which vents outside, was not set against the outside wall, because the washer hookups were. During the course of massive laundry loads (we raised a large, laundry intensive family in the house), the dryer vent had become disengaged from the dryer, and the dryer had spewed its very moist, lint filled exhaust into the room, which resulted in moldy, peeling, hideous sheetrock.
I fixed the dryer vent several times, but only half-heartedly. When I got really serious, I invested about 20 dollars in a secure hose and large hose clamps, and it worked perfectly, but the (lint) cows were already out of the barn by then.
So before I did anything else down there, except replumb for the well, I put a white Masonite siding over the peeling sheetrock. It didn't look all that great when I was done, but it looked about forty times better, allowing me to go in and do the rest of the work I needed to do.
Swallowing all my uneasiness (it takes courage to cut main plumbing lines. In the process of soldering everything together, it becomes exceedingly difficult to assure that there are no leaks anywhere. The only way to find them is to turn the water back on, and if there happens to be a large leak, the ceiling, floor, walls, windows (and maybe even neighbor’s house if the windows are open) get watered. Turning off the water, emptying the pipes (soldering will not take if there is any water in the system) is exceedingly tedious, especially when it is necessary, and it always is, to heat the leaky joint, pull the pipes apart, sand down all the solder, apply the flux and try again) I cut open the main line and got to work. I had to put in a filter which sits in the line ahead of the water softener, eliminating sand, clay, small fish (just kidding about the fish) and other larger sludge. We bought a General Electric Filter, which needs to be changed every three months or so, but makes a huge difference. It hangs in the main water line, happily doing it's job, with a blue light that will flash and an annoying beep that will sound when it needs to be changed.
Next, with huge ambition, I soldered together a system that would allow me to divert the water around the softener if I wanted. It required 22 soldering joints, and it took me an entire precious Saturday to put in. I would have been proud of it, except it leaked in three places, one of which I couldn't locate. Eventually, I took it out. It cut the water pressure down because it shunted the water through half inch pipe when it had been using three quarter inch. I almost cried when I saw my masterpiece sitting on the back porch waiting for recycle, with its loose ends, like a mutant octopus, jutting out randomly in all directions.
And as it turned out, my efforts to put in a shunting system were foolish. The softener itself had one built into it. We picked ours up at Home Depot for about three hundred fifty dollars. It was quite nifty, because everything happened in a single unit, which I put next to the water heater. But the way I did it, the thing opened against the wall, and the salt (all softeners I know of need salt to recharge the system) could not be conveniently poured in. Naturally, (it may not seem natural to you but unfortunately it is to me) I had put it in backwards.
I had to turn off the water, drain the system and redo twelve solder joints to do it. It worked just fine in its backwards state, but it wasn't satisfactory, and I knew it. Usually my wife is the one that tells me it just isn't going to work the way it is, but in this case, I figured it out for myself.
And, I have to admit, it was worth it. The system worked perfectly and he MLB (massive lime buildup) ceased.
The water heater was next. I had replaced four of them in our fourteen years because the sludge that built up on the heating units (because we didn't have a water softener) caused them to burn out. Eventually my wife found heating units that had a different configuration, designed not to build up, and they had worked great for about eight years, but the tank was filling up with lime and because of the septic tank backing up (that's a problem we fixed later) the bottom was rotting away. So I bought heater number five, the privileged one, that was going to have all the fresh water that entered it filtered and softened. As I installed it, I felt kind of bad that its predecessors had been so deprived. (Kind of like the younger children getting stuff you couldn't afford when the older kids were little)
Compared to what I'd already done, the water heater was a snap. I didn't have to do any rerouting or soldering for it. Mainly, I drained the old one, (turned off the power) undid the wiring, unscrewed two pipes, the inlet and the outlet, hollered for my boys to help me move it out, then while they were there, had them help me move the new one in, screwed in the inlet and outlet pipes, attached the wiring, turned on the power and the water and voila! There it was, working perfectly, leak free. (I have to mention the leak free part because it is quite unusual)
The laundry room was essentially done, but I had one more thing I wanted to do, aside from the painting, window blinds, curtains, light fixtures, shelving, and other minor details my wife insisted on, that I didn't want to do. It needed a large tub with a big drain to wash out muddy boots, ice chest, kitchen wastebaskets and other jobs to large and gross for the kitchen sink or a bathtub. I had considered putting one in before but thought it too hard, but after what I'd just been through, it was a breeze. I tapped into the drain for the washer, and atttached the pipes without too much difficulty. Then I put Y connectors on the washing machine hookups and attached rubber pipes to both for my hot and cold water. The tub was great, and very handy, and it really bugs me that for thirteen and a half years, my wife didn't have it. If I had just tried a little harder to be creative, our boots would have been a lot cleaner.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
