Is 24 divisible by 7?
Not quite in this country.
We decided yesterday to light our baking oven, after a two week break, it having last been used to make dinner on Christmas eve and Lunch on Christmas day, for the benefit of our guests, our parents. So, it being Saturday, and wishing to attempt to keep in my dear wife's good books, I got up with the children at about 8, intending to get the fire going, while she had a well deserved lie-in. So I cheerfully chucked a load of bits of cardboard and wrapping paper, saved over from Christmas for just this purpose, and some bits of wood on top, which is all it normally needs to get going. I opened the vent on the chimney, turned on the fan (located at the top of the chimney to assist the updraught) and lit a match. Cue piles of black smoke coming into the house. Oh dear. What is going on? I had forgotten that it's now well below zero outside. (-15 or thereabouts) and that the chimney and oven were colder than stone. The oven has a flue system that takes the smoke up, then down then shakes it all around (not quite, but you get the picture) to get the maximum heat from the smoke. This meant that a lot of cold heavy air was basically preventing the smoke from going up (down) the chimney, and it was taking the easy route and working backwards, taking the air from the chimney and venting into the house. As the baking oven is the sort where you light the fire in the oven itself, then remove the ash via a special trap door, and clean it up before baking, I had lit the fire right at the back of the oven, and the only way I could have possibly put the by now nicely smouldering attempt at a fire out, would have been to stick my arm right in the oven, meaning my eyebrows and hair would be nicely singed off. I gallantly decided there was no way I was going to do this, and opened the back door, instantly bringing large volumes of very cold air in, and nicely distributing the by now smoke filled air the whole way round the house... I also roused she who should not be disturbed with a healthy selection of four letter words, and we basically had to wait while the 'fire' extinguished itself, a process which took about 45 mins or so. After two more attempts at filling the house with smoke, I worked out the process. A large amount of birch bark, which burns very quickly and without much smoke, with kindling on top, and have the back door open, and the oven door open. This means that the inrushing cold air through the door is stronger than the airflow down the chimney, but the fire still huffed and puffed for about ten minutes, until it took of with a roar literally like a jet engine. It was like somebody had poured petrol on it (Not a bad idea) as the combination of quick burning bark and cold air finally got the flue going. So that was my morning. Singed hair on my arms, and a lungful or two of acrid smoke. What a laugh.
I should maybe have taken this as a warning not to attempt anything else, but did I? Before Christmas we had purchased a new single lever tap for the toilet, with a nice little hand shower attachment for that instant bidet feel, and also because we were fed up with being alternately scalded or frozen by the existing 2 tap system. This was a job that was planned for over the holidays, and as I have officially not quite started back, we decided to get on with it, as it looked fairly simple, I had all the extra bits I thought I needed, and all the tools, no problem. I should now refer you to the title of this lengthy article, as a reminder that shops here close at or before 4 on a Saturday, and don't open 'til 8 am Monday. It's now 12.30 on Saturday, this shouldn't take more than a couple of hours, shops'll still be open. So I set to. First thing, drilling and sawing through the bottom of the cupboard for the extra hose, with my nice new drills, courtesy of my younger siblings. Managed to slice my thumb with the back of the saw. Good start. Bandage in place, I removed the old tap system without too much trouble, except for the usual thing that the tightest nuts and connections are always in the most inaccessible place, neccessitating lying on your back in the cupboard, with bits of gunk landing on you head. This was aided by the fact that both pipes were fitted with stop valves, so I didn't even have to turn off the mains water. Having successfully fitted the new tap in place, I realised that the piping, which was the same length as the original was about 2 cm short, as the new tap sat higher than the old one. No prob, a quick trip to the local DIY merchants for some 10mm tubing, and take out the old slightly shorter tubing from the stop valve, replace it, and off we go. I started untightening the nut on the end of the stop valve, and it felt a bit stiff, but I kept going as I thought, oh well it's 20 years old, a bit tight, that's all. Next minute a small metal ball shot past my face followed by some rapidly warming water. In no time at all I was attempting to deposit the entire 2000 (yes 2000) litres of our water heater and storage unit all over the toilet floor. This water is kept at 60 celcius (Why? don't ask), and was rapidly approaching this as I exhibited my careful breeding and expensive education and proceeded to swear like a trooper. After about 1½ mins. I realised that my poor wife (by now thoroughly awake!!!) didn't know which was the mains water valve - always a handy thing to remember, and I shot out of the toilet, dived for the valve and span it closed, as she dived for as many towels as possible to start mopping up. It's by now 2.30. After a brief inspection, I realised that I had effectively dismantled the stop valve, because the nut I was unscrewing was stuck, and that I couldn't repair it. So a second trip to the DIY shop to purchase a new stop valve, arriving 15 mins before closing, and breathing a sigh of relief, with visions of an emergency plumber hovering in the back of my mind. Got home to realise that the end that I had unscrewed was 10mm and the other end 8mm. What did I have: the version with both ends 10mm. That plumber is sitting beside the phone, rubbing his hands in expectation. I frantically tried to strip this valve to see if I could rebuild the other. No joy. Then I realised (at 3.40) that there was a second DIY shop a bit further away, that might, just might be open 'til 4. Arriving at 3.55 I discovered it was, and I bought enough bits to rebuild the entire houses' plumbing system with some spare, brought it all home, did the job, and we now have a super-duper new tap in our toilet. What's left of my unsinged hair, has rapidly thinned, and the only positive thing out of this (apart from the tap), is that our toilet floor is now so clean, you could eat off it!
We decided yesterday to light our baking oven, after a two week break, it having last been used to make dinner on Christmas eve and Lunch on Christmas day, for the benefit of our guests, our parents. So, it being Saturday, and wishing to attempt to keep in my dear wife's good books, I got up with the children at about 8, intending to get the fire going, while she had a well deserved lie-in. So I cheerfully chucked a load of bits of cardboard and wrapping paper, saved over from Christmas for just this purpose, and some bits of wood on top, which is all it normally needs to get going. I opened the vent on the chimney, turned on the fan (located at the top of the chimney to assist the updraught) and lit a match. Cue piles of black smoke coming into the house. Oh dear. What is going on? I had forgotten that it's now well below zero outside. (-15 or thereabouts) and that the chimney and oven were colder than stone. The oven has a flue system that takes the smoke up, then down then shakes it all around (not quite, but you get the picture) to get the maximum heat from the smoke. This meant that a lot of cold heavy air was basically preventing the smoke from going up (down) the chimney, and it was taking the easy route and working backwards, taking the air from the chimney and venting into the house. As the baking oven is the sort where you light the fire in the oven itself, then remove the ash via a special trap door, and clean it up before baking, I had lit the fire right at the back of the oven, and the only way I could have possibly put the by now nicely smouldering attempt at a fire out, would have been to stick my arm right in the oven, meaning my eyebrows and hair would be nicely singed off. I gallantly decided there was no way I was going to do this, and opened the back door, instantly bringing large volumes of very cold air in, and nicely distributing the by now smoke filled air the whole way round the house... I also roused she who should not be disturbed with a healthy selection of four letter words, and we basically had to wait while the 'fire' extinguished itself, a process which took about 45 mins or so. After two more attempts at filling the house with smoke, I worked out the process. A large amount of birch bark, which burns very quickly and without much smoke, with kindling on top, and have the back door open, and the oven door open. This means that the inrushing cold air through the door is stronger than the airflow down the chimney, but the fire still huffed and puffed for about ten minutes, until it took of with a roar literally like a jet engine. It was like somebody had poured petrol on it (Not a bad idea) as the combination of quick burning bark and cold air finally got the flue going. So that was my morning. Singed hair on my arms, and a lungful or two of acrid smoke. What a laugh.
I should maybe have taken this as a warning not to attempt anything else, but did I? Before Christmas we had purchased a new single lever tap for the toilet, with a nice little hand shower attachment for that instant bidet feel, and also because we were fed up with being alternately scalded or frozen by the existing 2 tap system. This was a job that was planned for over the holidays, and as I have officially not quite started back, we decided to get on with it, as it looked fairly simple, I had all the extra bits I thought I needed, and all the tools, no problem. I should now refer you to the title of this lengthy article, as a reminder that shops here close at or before 4 on a Saturday, and don't open 'til 8 am Monday. It's now 12.30 on Saturday, this shouldn't take more than a couple of hours, shops'll still be open. So I set to. First thing, drilling and sawing through the bottom of the cupboard for the extra hose, with my nice new drills, courtesy of my younger siblings. Managed to slice my thumb with the back of the saw. Good start. Bandage in place, I removed the old tap system without too much trouble, except for the usual thing that the tightest nuts and connections are always in the most inaccessible place, neccessitating lying on your back in the cupboard, with bits of gunk landing on you head. This was aided by the fact that both pipes were fitted with stop valves, so I didn't even have to turn off the mains water. Having successfully fitted the new tap in place, I realised that the piping, which was the same length as the original was about 2 cm short, as the new tap sat higher than the old one. No prob, a quick trip to the local DIY merchants for some 10mm tubing, and take out the old slightly shorter tubing from the stop valve, replace it, and off we go. I started untightening the nut on the end of the stop valve, and it felt a bit stiff, but I kept going as I thought, oh well it's 20 years old, a bit tight, that's all. Next minute a small metal ball shot past my face followed by some rapidly warming water. In no time at all I was attempting to deposit the entire 2000 (yes 2000) litres of our water heater and storage unit all over the toilet floor. This water is kept at 60 celcius (Why? don't ask), and was rapidly approaching this as I exhibited my careful breeding and expensive education and proceeded to swear like a trooper. After about 1½ mins. I realised that my poor wife (by now thoroughly awake!!!) didn't know which was the mains water valve - always a handy thing to remember, and I shot out of the toilet, dived for the valve and span it closed, as she dived for as many towels as possible to start mopping up. It's by now 2.30. After a brief inspection, I realised that I had effectively dismantled the stop valve, because the nut I was unscrewing was stuck, and that I couldn't repair it. So a second trip to the DIY shop to purchase a new stop valve, arriving 15 mins before closing, and breathing a sigh of relief, with visions of an emergency plumber hovering in the back of my mind. Got home to realise that the end that I had unscrewed was 10mm and the other end 8mm. What did I have: the version with both ends 10mm. That plumber is sitting beside the phone, rubbing his hands in expectation. I frantically tried to strip this valve to see if I could rebuild the other. No joy. Then I realised (at 3.40) that there was a second DIY shop a bit further away, that might, just might be open 'til 4. Arriving at 3.55 I discovered it was, and I bought enough bits to rebuild the entire houses' plumbing system with some spare, brought it all home, did the job, and we now have a super-duper new tap in our toilet. What's left of my unsinged hair, has rapidly thinned, and the only positive thing out of this (apart from the tap), is that our toilet floor is now so clean, you could eat off it!
posted by the other cold one at 7:25 pm
2 Comments:
When I think that we thought of doing the plumbing on Christmas Day, it makes the hair stand up on the back of my head.
Isn't it funny how things run in the family? I can remember many such occasions in Cricklade or in Dean Street, when simple jobs turned into major operations. So you are just a chip off the block.
Hi chaps - just to let you know that baby 3 arrived on 17th December - he's called Thomas. All is well - Victoria blooming and all that, and the other two really seem to like him. Hope you had a great holiday (although it sounds eventful...). Would be so good to find a way to meet up before too much longer
J
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