Things Happen in Threes

Well, they say things happen in threes and when it comes to leaks I have to agree. With all the rain we have had lately, I was not surprised that something, somewhere had to start letting water in. Even with no basement, rain water has managed to sneak in the house. Off my kitchen is a decent size deck that sits on the top of my garage and under the planks, water found the path of least resistance, not the downspout, but a hole.

I hate the first of each month as my maintenance cheque is taken out of my account, but have to say, it’s much easier calling a management company that it is a roofer. Presto – there was a knock at the door, a ladder over the railing and man with a caulking gun in his hand.

He did not feel the need to rip up the deck as he found a few spots where the old caulking was dried and pulling away from the edge of the door frame and he thought it might be sneaking in there. We have had two rains since and a dry garage, so fingers crossed.

Just before that, I had taken Liza into the spa for an oil change and check-up. All seemed to go fine. A few days later she was getting a vacuum and bath when I found some oil on the garage floor. A cracked oil pan? Leaking transmission? My mind raced through a litany of catastrophic options.

I headed back to Canadian Tire and explained my dilemma. In about 10 minutes she was parked back in the lot after a brief trip on a hoist. I had not been paged while I was in the store and felt that was a good sign. After waiting about 30 minutes and asking about my car twice (both times being told the paperwork was being processed) someone asked me what car I was waiting for and I pointed her out.

“Oh, your key is right here in this drawer. The washer on the oil pan nut was cracked, we replaced it and topped up the oil”. So relieved at the good news and no bill, I let the 30 minutes go.

And finally, a few weeks ago, I was in my powder room and felt a plop of water on my head. ‘Well that’s not right’ I thought to myself. Upon further inspection I found a small puddle on the floor and a small water stain in the ceiling around the fan.

Oh dear. Right above the fan is my bedroom's en suite with three potential suspects, a toilet, shower and sink. I ran upstairs, filled the sink, and then let it out. Back at the crime scene; silence, no dripping and no water. I repeated my experiment with a few inches in the bathtub and came up with same dry results.

A flush of the toilet revealed the culprit. On the upside, it only happened when the commode was in use so it was not coming from the feed pipe. IronMan was on the horizon as were a few other more pressing matters, and with two other bathrooms, I just turned off the water and got on with things.

Over the next couple weeks, I did my plumbing analysis. I removed the fan from the room below thinking I would see a cracked waste pipe. But once the fan was out, the box was in the way. No luck. Thoughts of drywall cutting and/or ripping up tile floor danced about in my head, not nearly as nice as sugar plums.

As my parents were coming for dinner this weekend, I thought I would ask my dad if he would have a look. “Sounds like you have a cracked gasket” he said. IronGirl quipped “I have extras at home. You can have one if you want”….. they don’t call it The Homo Depot for nothing.

So, today, I stopped by, picked one up, and being plumbing capable, when I am told what needs to happen, switched the old, gross, fuzzy ring with a No-Seep No. 1 wax toilet bowl gasket. No more leak!

I also learned a little something from all these leaks, there is always a silver lining. I could have had big bills, major work and more serious damage. In the end all it cost was a phone call, a quick drive and 15 minutes of work with pliers and plumbing tape.

I do hope though that my next threesome comes in the form of lotto wins!