Lost on the Lunatic Fringe

I went into the kitchen to take care of one of those situations that irritates me. I had left a pot soaking in the sink overnight, and I had to put my hand into a sink full of cold, greasy water to finish the job. I usually won’t do that, preferring to leave the pot on the stove full of soapy water. While I was there, I looked at the sink. Me being who I am, it immediately brought to mind the other fixtures in the house. Namely, the toilet and the bathtub.

Actually, it was a series of things that brought those to mind. Yesterday I got a haircut, and while we were wasting time before the appointment, we went to Barnes and Noble. When we were there, I wandered into the section on home improvement. A book on DIY plumbing caught my attention. I thought about how our toilet wobbles and when you get in the bathtub it sometimes seems to spring under you a tiny bit. I think both of them moved a little after the house was moved, and I don’t think the drain on the bathtub was ever quite flush with the pipe.

We’ve been putting these projects off for a variety of reasons. The first one is denial. Neither of us wants to see exactly what the extent of the damage is to the floor under these things, or what lives there. It’s mostly dread of discovering what lives there. It’s a toilet and a bathtub. The second is that both of these things weigh a ton, especially the bathtub. Getting them out of the house is going to be an adventure, and will probably result in medical attention in a worst-case scenario or a few days of pain and suffering in a best-case scenario. Third is that neither of us knows a thing about plumbing. That might not be strictly fair, because Mehdi has done a little plumbing, and I have watched a couple of episodes of This Old House dealing with the subject. Those guys are professionals and craftsmen, and their idea of how to do things right intimidates me and makes sense. We’re on a budget, and what if we can’t afford to do it right? I suspect that this is what stopped the previous owners from doing it right. They probably hired a relative who had once used a toilet, thus qualifying him to do the job as far as they were concerned.

Finally, there’s the money. We can’t afford the tub, the floor, the toilet or the plumber. On the other hand, can we afford to let it go? I don’t relish the thought of crashing through the floor one day in the bathtub. That’s the kind of ride I can cheerfully pass on. I don’t want the toilet to come away from the floor either, spilling its contents and exposing a sewer pipe. I don’t want to do a bad job or a cheap job myself either. It might end up just making the problem worse. I’d have to hire a plumber, and then I’d probably find out exactly how much the floor will cost to repair, because it’s likely he’ll refuse to do it unless I fix the floor first. Then, like a mechanic, he’ll find a dozen other things I need to pay for. It’s in the bylaws of the union. Then of course I have to decide whether we’re going to be living in this house long enough to make the expense worth it. Oh yeah, and find a place to shower. My brother lives across the road, but I hate the idea of not having a bathroom to use. I imagine the room will have to be gutted completely. (Secretly, it would not make me sad. What would make me sad is the idea that the bathroom would be the only room in the house that was in good condition.)

I have an idea that it will have to be done. I don’t know where to start. That book on plumbing just sat there, accusing me of negligence and irresponsibility. It spoke to me of all the awful things I am allowing to happen to my house. “But I have no money to do it!”, I silently replied to the book. “That’s no excuse”, it told me. “That’s what DIY is for, to save money.” it whispered. “Shut up, shut up, shut UP!” said I. Stupid book.