I don’t know why but I have always been a hyper-vigilant sort of person which means I notice things in detail. It also probably means I have high levels of adrenaline and cortisol, but I hope I counteract the effect of fight or flight with all the meditating and grounding I do. Anyway, when I popped into the laundry this morning, I happened to notice the boiler gauge was showing a drop in pressure.
Now, I know how to adjust the pressure on the boiler by opening a specific valve until the little black needle on the dial rises above the red needle, which I duly did. And then I thought, that’s the third time I’ve had to do that in the last couple of weeks, so I messaged my heating engineer brother (who installed the aforesaid boiler) to ask why might be causing it.
‘You’ve probably got a leak somewhere,’ he said. ‘Check around the boiler, then all the radiators.’
Off I trotted, then, with torch and kitchen roll in hand. I have to add at this point I was also in the middle of making marmalade AND bread, but hey - I can multi-task!
I found some dripping coming from the kitchen radiator. And, as I was lying on a very cold floor, groping around behind the radiator trying to ascertain where the leak was coming from - connection, pipe, spider having a shower - I happened to glance up at the kitchen ceiling and spotted three round and suspicious looking damp patches that definitely weren’t there yesterday. I know this for certain because I am hyper-vigilant.
This meant there was another leak upstairs, and I was immediately rocketed back to the time just after we moved into Damson Cottage and the living room ceiling fell on my head because of a pipe leak.
When you think ‘leak’ you think ‘bathroom.’ I shot upstairs and pulled various panels off various bits of bathroom in search of the culprit. Bambino came to help, diving into the void underneath the bath and emerging covered in dust and cobwebs. But no - the bathroom was dry in all corners, chasms and orifices, as far as I could see. I reassembled the bathroom.
And then I thought, ‘You idiot woman. The water stains on the kitchen ceiling are directly below the bedroom, not the bathroom. This must be a leaky pipe between the floorboards.’ I was mildly relieved because whilst in the bathroom I was catastrophising like a loon, imagining the whole bathroom was going to have to ripped out and we’d have to re-employ the camping loo, and it’s jolly cold at the moment for bare-bottoms in the shed.
What was needed, though, was a plumber. The emergency company I called wanted £300 just to come and have a look, or ‘do a full diagnostic check’ as they said. I said I would get back to them. I left a message on the answerphone at the office of a local plumber who failed to return my call. And then I posted a job on the MyBuilder website because they’ve always come up trumps in the past.
At this point I stopped for a bowl of soup, and to decant the marmalade I’d made, and to take the bread out of the oven. I made two loaves and nine jars of marmalade. I reckon it works out at 80p a jar, which for homemade marmalade (artisan?) is pretty amazing. The bread costs about 60p a loaf. But my main aim in home cooking and baking is to avoid all the additives in shop bought stuff.
I drew pencil circles around the water stains so I could monitor the spread. I lifted the carpet in the bedroom and on one of the floorboards was writing the word ‘Pipes.’ Aha!!
And then, bless the Universe who was looking out for me, a message pinged in from MyBuilder. ‘Hi, I’m in Market Drayton this afternoon. I can drop by and look at your leaks,’ it said. Hurrah!!
A very young and fresh faced chap by the name of Josh duly arrived and I reminded myself that almost everyone looks younger than me these days. Once you are in your late fifties it’s a sobering thought that a substantial majority of people on the planet are younger than you. Sigh…
Anyway, Josh checked the kitchen radiator and said we needed a new one. I wasn’t surprised, to be honest. He inspected the water stains and said the ceiling wasn’t in danger of immediate collapse. And he inspected the upstairs and said he’d be back to do both jobs in the middle of next week. Hurrah!
However, the old hyper-vigilance couldn’t be ignored. And when the heating came on at 4.30 pm, the bigger of the water stains began to spread, albeit ever so slightly. Pressure of the pump system, I suppose. When Andy returned from work, then, we set about investigating because I said I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing something was dripping under the floorboards, and please could we at least try and find the leak and put a pot under it?
We took up the floorboard marked ‘Pipes’ et voilá!
See that T-connection in the middle? The left hand side is dripping. And whilst it is annoying having a leaky pipe, it is extremely satisfying finding the aforesaid leak so easily and with the minimal of disruption, AND being able to put a plastic tub underneath it to catch the water! What a relief! I told my brother and he said all it needs is the valve tightening - righty tighty, lefty loosie. However, both Andy and I have visions of tempting fate, resulting instant valve damage and a waterfall if we attempt this simple task so, as the plumber is coming to sort out the kitchen radiator, we’ll let him deal with the valve tightening, too. If anything does break, at least the plumber will be there to do something about it.
We are timing the drip to see how long it takes to fill the tub, so the tub can be emptied at suitable intervals. It’s a slow drip, so we should be okay for several hours at a time. The space between the floorboards accommodates a fairly substantial plastic tub, thank goodness. I sent the above photo to the plumber. From his response, I couldn’t tell if he was suitably impressed or not, but I could tell he doesn’t bother using full stops whilst texting. But he will be out on Thursday to attend to the Damson Cottage drips.
Which is more important than me being a punctuation pedant.
I shan’t be retraining as a plumber.
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KJ