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06.21.10
For Want Of A Number 10 Wood Screw
posted by Absinthe | 10:54 AM
So we’ve moved into a new house. Like, actually new, with no residents before us save some ants that – no offense, ants – I am currently bombing the shit out of. I try to be respectful of indigenous cultures, but this is some manifest destiny shit here. Ants have to GO.
“Moved in” is overstating the case. I’ve been in the house the last two nights. The first night I slept on an air mattress in the master bedroom. Then somebody came in and ripped out all the carpet, because carpet, like ants, has got to GO. Manifest hardwood destiny. I thought I was going to have to spend last night on the linoleum somewhere, but it turns out the guy accidentally left the carpet in the master closet. (This closet is bigger than the room I was living in when I met my wife, so that’s progress of a sort.) So last night I slept on an air mattress in a closet and was happy for it.
I forgot the box of random bits of dishware and silverware, which makes eating in a tough proposition, but it’s not really a big deal because I also lack refrigeration. Or a chair to sit on. It’s pointless to spend money on those things because they’ll get here sooner or later. But there’s still plenty to spend money on. Never had to buy a plunger before, nor a stepladder, nor a family-size mega bonus pack of ant bait. I’ve been a hunter-gatherer since I took up residence here to oversee some contractors and get a few things ready around the house, the latter of which invariably take ten times as long as they should, because my ever-changing shopping list is comically, persistently one vital object short of what I need to get a job done.
“I know! I’ll install this light fixture!” is the thought. Because if you’re a new homeowner with a handiness quotient in the low single digits, the first thing you should tackle is an electrical project – succeed and your triumphant ass can handle anything, fail and you’re dead and don’t have to do anything else. I’ve got a wire stripper, a ladder, a current meter, and a light fixture and mounting hardware, I figure I’m all set. Put out the ladder. Get the hardware neatly organized. Set my tools in easy reach. Shut down the power to the appropriate circuits, double-check to make sure they’re not hot, start reading the directions. Get to the part that involves electrical tape and say, “Shit!” in a voice that echoes through the empty house. Electrical tape. Add it to the list.
“Okay, shower curtain rod, that probably won’t involve electricity.” I’ve got a choice between drywall anchors (included) and wood screws (not included). But! I read the directions ahead of time on this one and picked up some wood screws just in case. Get my cordless drill out, lay out the hardware, cut out the templates, find some non-electrical tape, pop open the cheap stud finder/level combo pack I picked up on my last trip to Lowe’s, because I’d rather anchor the rod into a stud than the froth that passes for drywall these days.
(I don’t know shit about drywall. I just know that hanging stuff on your walls, technology-wise, has devolved from the days when you just hammered a peg through the banner and right into the castle wall.)
Okay, got the stud finder, I – hmm. Feels a little light. Here’s the … battery … cover. Requires a 9-volt battery. “Fuck!” I think, and a cascade of echoes makes it clear that I did not just think it. Nine-volt battery. Add it to the list.
All right, fine. Childproofing. I’ve done that before, it’s easy. I bought some long pieces of foam with Velcro tabs to attach to the raised hearth, because it is at a perfect fall height and has corners that can cut through skin, which I know because I already did it to myself once, and though I am clumsy, I still have a little more grace than our three-year-old. I cut the foam and lay it out, then look at the directions to make sure there’s nothing counterintuitive that I’ve missed. Lay out foam, check. Cut foam to appropriate length, check. Clean all surfaces with rubbing alcohol and “Oh, fuck YOU.”
Rubbing alcohol. Add it to the – no. Here, I am drawing the line. I am attaching this fucking foam to this fucking hearth after cleaning the surfaces with nothing more than a brush and a wiping cloth and that is IT. I press the adhesive strips down with extra vigor, lay the foam around all the edges, and vow not to disturb the hearth for much longer than the 24 hours required for curing. Which will be easy because, what, am I going to build a fire? The only source of wood currently at my disposal is my house, and I am becoming fond of it rather quickly. When we’re done it will be clean, well-lit, and – oh, hey, genius? When you’re thinking back to this post, later on, because you thought you finally cracked that light fixture problem, and you’ve wired the right wires together and turned the power back on and step inside to gently nudge the rocker switch from off to on? Try to remember how this ends.
LIGHT BULBS.
You’re welcome.
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Topics: Human Interests | 4 Comments »
June 21, 2010 at 1:01 PM
Better pick up a two-penny nail along with the #10 screw. That can cause really prolonged problems. Maybe a cold one as well. I think you recited more verses already than the two-penny nail one. But, due to the HORSE, PETA would get involved.
June 21, 2010 at 8:20 PM
We tried installing a new ceiling light in the kitchen. No joy. Asked a family friend over who knows electricals. He mildly shocked himself once, then touched a wire to the metal frame of the fixture and a 15-kiloton explosion ensured. We no longer have power in any of the lights in the kitchen (though the electric lighters on the gas stove still work).
I watch TV sitting in a camp chair in an otherwise empty room. I have three toilets, none of which is operating at 100%. I have a fence to fix, massive trees that need pruning, and yes, we have ants. Oh, the simple carefree life of the renter.
June 22, 2010 at 5:49 AM
“Hello, master electrician could you fix the light in the bathroom?”
Said electrician shows up ten minutes later, done in five.
/enjoy beer whie watching
“Thanks dad!”
Congrats on the new place!
June 22, 2010 at 8:35 AM
Gene:
You have TV? High. Roller.