THE OLD HOUSE DOCTOR 11-24-02

TRIX OLD AND NEW

          People who have worked on (or lived in) old houses have seen a lot of tricks to make the hideous appear, well, less hideous. Just look around YOUR old house. Do you have flattened tin cans nailed over holes in the floor? Of course you do, and some of you are darn proud of it. Ever pulled off a piece of trim to find ancient newspapers filling the void behind it? I have. ‘Insulation of the worst sort, it is’, as Yoda would croak. It might keep out the “draffs”, but it feeds the termites and mices. Steel wool, chewing gum, wads of tape, all have been used to seal the cold wind out. Usually in a pinch, when you’re drinking coffee on a lazy Sunday morning and the cold wind inside your house just gets to be too much.

          I have found toothpaste filling wall holes (this is one you renters [and yes, you too, Barbara]) have used for years. Works great on white walls. Just don’t try it with the blue or red stuff. I’ve personally used corks to fill round holes in floors, and will readily attest to its efficacy. I can’t tell you how often I’ve found scraps of glass covering window holes, artfully attached with scotch tape.

          Most people would patch cracks and voids in plaster with setting-type joint compound, followed by paper tape and drywall mud. Floated to a thin line, of course. Many, though, would rather stick a piece of duct tape over the crack, and, if they were feeling especially energetic, splash some paint on top of it. Hopefully it matches. It’s not exactly the kind of repair I would make, but I don’t care what you do. It looks good from my house. And makes for a good laugh later on.

          There are lines that, when crossed, make things go awry. Use just any old chunk of scrap wood to shim that porch joist, and you may pay for it with a swayed floor. Use pressure treated wood for any foundation-to-structure shim. Filling old mortar joints with “Quickcrete” might work for a while, but the hard mortar might very well cause the softer brick to flake and crack as the years go by. Then where would you be? Probably hiding in your ramshackle house, watching reruns of “Love Boat” and sucking the filling from maple doughnuts while you take down license numbers of illegally parked cars.

          Oh, yes, precious. You KNOW who you are. And so does everyone else.

                       THE OLD HOUSE DOCTOR 1-11-04

FIX YOUR OWN DAMN WATER HEATER

Dear Old House Doctor,

            My water heater has stopped heating water. Could it be the electrical connection? What in the world can I do?

            Signed

            Filthy From Not Bathing

           

Dear Filthy,

            I hold my nose as I answer. Your electric water heater is suffering from Lime-o-nitis. It has built up so much lime that the lower element has burned out. As you say, What can you do?

            You could smoke a couple of bongs and go into the woods to burn a circle, but praying does little for electric water heaters. I know, because God told me that she wants you to use natural gas.

            Okay, I’ll tell you how to rejuvenate your electric water heater, but you’d better be prepared to work at it. Otherwise you need to shell out up to four hundred bucks for a new one, and I know you have more bongs to do, so bear with me for a couple of weeks whilst I explain this.

            Electric water heaters heat water using an element that comes in contact with the water itself, as opposed to gas heaters that use flames to heat the tank. With me so far? Good. The water around here has a lot of lime in it (calcium carbonate to you cavers), and the action of heating causes oxidation, which coats your heating elements with a hard white scale. This eventually causes the element to burn out. Don’t axe me why, it just DOES.

            Your electric water heater has two elements; one halfway up the tank, and one at the bottom. The bottom element does the lion’s share of the work, and is the first to burn out. HINT; if you replace one, replace the other! Labor is the main expense in any construction project, unless you build with gold or platinum. Anyway, you don’t need to toss the whole thing. A couple of hours work will make your electric water heater last nearly forever. Trouble is, you need to do this every other year.

            Do WHAT?, you axe. Unh-unh-unh. You gotta wait til necks time. Cold showers for you, you dweeb.

          THE OLD HOUSE DOCTOR 2-9-04

ELECTRIC WATER HEATER REPAIR II

            In our last episode, we discussed why the lime in your water burns out water heater elements. Now I’m going to tell you what to do about it.

            Find the breaker for the water heater and turn it OFF to keep you from dying. THIS IS EXTREMELY IMPORTANT.

 Turn the cold water to the heater off. Connect a hose to the drain valve at the bottom of the tank and open it, then SLOWLY lift the lever to open the pressure relief valve (it’s near the top of the tank). Don’t scald yourself. This will drain the thing. If you can’t find these things, you are either incompetent or unlucky, and should call a plumber. Or a psychic.

            You should already have picked up an element wrench (six bucks at the plumbing supply). Remove the element cover at the bottom of the tank and disconnect the two wires. You already threw the breaker, RIGHT? The tank has drained, HASN’T IT? Place the element wrench over the nut and turn it left (lefty loosey / righty tighty). Once it is loose, try to pull it out of the hole (oh my!). If it’s stuck, it is probably because the element has a lot of scale, or is shaped like a doubled-up U. Use a large screwdriver to knock off the scale and to compress the ends of the element together. Do this by using the edge of the hole as a fulcrum. This may take some work, but keep at it, using a flashlight to see what your doing. Do the same thing to remove the upper element.

            Once the element is out, take it to the plumbing supply and get another; make sure to get the same type, as they have two different thread sizes.

            Then do the whole thing in reverse order. Close the drain but not the pressure relief valve, and turn on the cold water. Once full, water will try to come out the P.R.valve; close it and go to your upstairs sink, turning on the hot water to drain the air out of the system. If you don’t, the trapped air will burn out your new elements.

            Next time: Removing the Remaining Lime! A trade secret.

              THE OLD HOUSE DOCTOR 2-23-04

ENOUGH WITH THE WATER HEATERS AWREDDY

            I know that I told you how to replace your electric water heater’s elements last time, but I want you to go back in time so you can clean it out while it’s empty. Just go to www.gobackintime.com  to find out how.

            You’ve successfully wrested the lime-encrusted elements from their holes and your last (and most important) task is to clean out the lime that fills the bottom of the tank. If you don’t, the lime granules will breed new lime on your elements, and then where would you be? Snurfling for crusted gum on the bottoms of bus benches, I bet.

            Borrow a friend’s shop-vac, get some duct tape and a two-foot section of the largest diameter garden hose you can find. Make a long handled scoop that will fit through the element hole and reach the other side of the tank (I prefer a cheap camping ladle with the spoon ground down). Use a flashlight to check your progress as you scrape the lime granules towards the front of the tank.

            Lime that gathers at the bottom of the tank is not solid; it fell off the elements. These granules are easily moved to the front of the tank, where you can vacuum them out with the piece of garden hose you duct-taped onto the shop-vac hose. Your piece of garden hose will clog almost immediately, and squeezing the hose firmly (oh my!) to break up the clogs will be a constant task. The lime is crushed easily, and though this task of scooping, vacuuming, crushing and peering with your flashlight seems monotonous, the boredom can be assuaged with regular doses of fine tequila.

            The whole process may take a half an hour or so, but keep at it until the bottom of the tank is completely clean and your vacuum weighs more than your Saint Bernard. Squeezing the hose constantly is the key, and letting the vacuum rest occasionally will keep it from burning up, as stepping down the hose size makes it work harder. Then go to www.goforwardintime.com to find your job done and your hot bath waiting.

THE OLD HOUSE DOCTOR 10-11-04

POTENT PRESERVATION POTABLES

          An old house dweller (OHD) has many tools in the household kit; vise-grips, duct tape and WD-40 are always within easy reach at my house. If it moves, and it shouldn’t, use duct tape. If it should move and doesn’t, you’ve got WD-40. And almost everything else can be crimped, loosened, tightened or whacked with a pair of regular-duty vise-grips.

And no old-house-dweller worth their salt would be without the necessary tool kit for internal adjustments; I refer, of course, to a well-stocked liquor cabinet. All suggestions are for après labor, of course.

          Got a water heater to replace? Or a refrigerator with which you’d like to decorate your porch?? Beer and sangria are the professionals’ choice for such a task. Easy on the brain, no falling down. I recommend Rolling Rock and Yago.

          Up on ladders? Using power tools? Stay off the booze, friends, until you stop. Then a nice vodka and tonic in summer or hot buttered rum in winter can round out the day. Don’t waste the Belvedere on mixed drinks, though; stick with Gilbey’s.

          Just bought yourself an old house? You fool. Take a few slugs of cheap whiskey, because you won’t be able to afford anything else for the next decade or two.

          Just sold your old house for a profit? Congratulate yourself with a bottle of Moet and Chandon champagne. If you plan to buy a new, maintenance-free log cabin, buy a case.

          For nasty plumbing problems that require crawling around in the sewage that leaked out your water closet drain, only tequila will take that taste away. I just love the quaint term “water closet,” don’t you? It brings up visions of turn-of the-century hotels with Brett Maverick in the bar downstairs. Drinking Don Eduardo anejo, no doubt.

          For masonry problems, especially those that cause your home to slide downhill, the fashionable OHD turns to gin martinis. Just one word; Beefeater.

          Need a new roof? An entire rewiring in order? Building inspector sent you a fax that’s on its eighteenth page? The hell with it. Absinthe is the drink for you. A little wormwood goes a long way!

OLD HOUSE DOCTOR 1-21-02

HOME SELF-EXAM

PART 1

          Now that Grandpa has been sent back to the future (did I hear a collective sigh of relief?), we can get back to keeping up with your home’s health. I’m going to teach you to perform a seasonal home self-exam so that when Cletis the Plumber or Jayfus the Roofer comes to you with a repair bid, you’ll have some foreknowledge of its details. You might even be able to head off those guys, if you do this twice a year. Catch the smaller problems BEFORE they turn into monsters.

          Your home’s greatest enemies are time, moisture and yourself, though not necessarily in this order. And as every GUY knows (can I get a group HARUMPH?), worming around your crawlspace is the best indicator of a home’s health. There isn’t a guy in the world that can truly resist an old house’s spider-infested basement. Well, only a few, but they’re dead. But I’m sure it’s not from spider bites. Put on your overalls, we’re goin’ underground.

          The crawl should be DRY. Covering the dirt with clear plastic will keep the moisture away. The masonry piers that support the floor joists toward the center of the house should make full contact, be plumb (straight), and the mortar should be solid. If not, add shims and repoint. Any water or gas pipes need to be off the ground, as should those electric lines. Attach them all to the floor joists with proper hangers and staples. Chewed-on electric cable can be wrapped with electric tape IF no more than one of the wires has been exposed, but it’s best to get Elmo the Electrician to do it. That way I won’t get sued. Examine the areas below the bath and kitchen for leaks or wet wood. Are there pinholes throughout your joists? You may have boring beetles, though they don’t like to be called that. Poke your wood with an awl or screwdriver to test its integrity around termite damage. Look for moist mud tunnels around piers and masonry. You might have active termites. If so, call Porky the Pest Guy.

          I’ll be giving a talk on Home Self-Exams Thursday January 24^th (hey, that’s tonight!) at 7 PM at The Community Room on the Square in Berryville. Y’all come.

         

         

THE OLD HOUSE DOCTOR 2-9-02

KNOW YOUR HOME’S HEALTH

PART TWO

          Last time, we talked about your crawlspace, and how it is a gauge of your home’s health. You put on overalls and wormed around with a flashlight, looking for telltale signs of rot such as colonies of glowing fungi shaped like Newt Gingrich. You cursed the fact that you even read this stupid column, and doubly cursed that you’re gullible enough to actually TRY this stuff. Well, keep those overalls on, because we’re going up top now.

          Your attic has the top job (HaHa) of your home’s components: to keep the rain away from the structure. Once up there, turn off your flashlight and look for the light coming through the cracks. Never mind that the spiders have moved closer to you in the dark. Cracks of light near the eaves are natural in old homes, unless they can admit squirrels. Patch them with hardware cloth if you see squirrel sign such as plant material or droppings.

          Another visitor is the bat. They like your roof’s tight spots in the peak, and, unless they are in numbers, pose no great risk. Their droppings, though, can cause respiratory problems, so bring a dust mask with you. Do not harm them, it is illegal and VERY bad karma.

          That mask might also keep you from breathing the fiberglass insulation fibers in the air. Old houses NEED as much insulation as they can get, and the standard 3 ½ inches isn’t half enough. Insulating your roof rafters is a no-no: the heat trapped between the insulation and the shingles will cut your roof’s longevity in half unless a ventilated air space is provided.

          Look at the roof joints, especially around vent and chimneys that penetrate the roof decking. Black streaks indicate a leak, but if it is dry during rain, it is a past leak. Touch the area to make sure it’s dry. Examine the underside of the ridge as well. Most leaks can be stopped with an application of cold-process roofing tar or silicone. No, it must be applied OUTSIDE the attic.

          Check your A/C ducts for leaks, your electrical wires for chewed areas. Seal either with the proper tape. If TWO adjacent wires are exposed, call Elmo the Electrician.

THE OLD HOUSE DOCTOR 6-10-11

FUCKING BUGS AND WHY YOU SHOULD BE HAPPY TO KILL THEM

OR FOR YOU MORE TIMID SORTS,

KNOW YOUR BUGS, THEN KILL THEM

According to Doctor E.O. Wilson of Harvard University, there are over ten quintillion insects in the world, give or take a few billion. And I’ll bet there are some pissing you off right now. So I’m going to write about what you can do about them.

I don’t mean building ant farms or hiring them to pull little wagons; I mean how to recognize and get rid of them. Notice I didn’t say ‘how to preserve them.’ This isn’t “Wild Kingdom.” And I don’t much like dealing with formaldehyde myself. Preservation, indeed. We are not children here.

Now, don’t all you entomological types get up on your soapboxes. Oh, okay, go ahead; you’ve nothing else to do, being entomologists, and you look so silly up there. I could use the entertainment.

I do not condone killing bugs wholesale; there are undoubtedly many services they perform, other than making my idiot of a neighbor scream in pain when he steps on a stinging one. THAT’S sometimes worth it. But most are just plain impossible to live with. Bugs, not neighbors. Though in his case…

Take spiders. Yes, I know they’re not technically bugs. They’re not even arthropods, they’re arachnids. But just get one crawling on you in your sleep and see if you care.

The only two spiders you should care about are the black widow and the brown recluse. Both can hurt you, and the black widow can kill you outright.

Black widows love darkness and wet. I most often find them in the water meter enclosure, and they are so beautiful that I hate to kill them, but I usually do. I don’t want a meter reader or plumber or homeowner to open the meter box and have a fourteen inch spider grab their faces and suck them dry.

Actually, black widows seldom grow to more than three quarters of an inch across. They are shy, gloss black, hairless, and play the piano quite well, thank you. The females have a bright red hourglass shape on the underside of their abdomens to identify them as extremely poisonous. Isn’t that handy? Either Mother Nature or God has a sick sense of humor when you have to turn over the most dangerous spider in this hemisphere to identify it.

Okay, if it’s shiny, black and slick, kill it or leave it alone.

The brown recluse, on the other hand, is much more common. There are hundreds in your house right now.

Here is a picture of one. If you see it, kill it.

  They are low to the ground, splayed-out-looking, light tan to dark brown, hairless, and look more like crabs than spiders. Though they tell you there is a violin shape on their backs (there is), their thoraxes are so tiny that by the time you identify the mark the damn thing has jumped into your blouse. That’s a lie; they don’t jump. They will crawl into your bed, though.

The recluse bite tends to rot your skin and muscle adjacent to the bite, leaving a huge, seeping, stinking wound that will eventually heal after depriving you of muscle tissue and a social life. They hide in linens, shoes, and anywhere they can spin their messy little webs. Vacuum around and under the bed and in the window sills. They are scavengers as well as live feeders.

Kill them. I mean it.

All other spiders should be left alone. They kill all those bugs you hate and are no threat to you. As a bonus, if you kill one, the spider God Ulthalla will sneak into your room at night and relieve you of your insides. It’s not pretty.

Cockroaches have been on this planet for longer than most species; they go back to the Silurian, when frogs were the size of Volkswagens and everything was swamp. Come to think of it, things haven’t changed all that much in Arkansas.

There are two types of cockroaches in my estimation; little ones and big ones. Oh, I hear the entomologists moaning again. Somebody feed them some grubs or mealworms.

The big ones show up one at a time, and the uneducated among you (The Majority) call them Water Bugs or Palmetto Bugs. This is a lie, people. They are cockroaches. GIANT cockroaches. They crawl through spaces air can’t even penetrate and they leave disgusting roach slime all over your food. If you manage to smack one with a flyswatter, they just look at you. Then they fly up in the air, land on the back of your neck, and crawl down your shirt.

Don’t think you’ve got ‘em? Look in your food pantry and under your sink. If you see tiny black round specks the size of tiny poppyseeds, you have them. This is their offal, their ordure.

These roaches are normally absent in the winter, but as soon as the spring rains come, they come a-callin’. Then they come around again when the weather turns hot and dry, because they are attracted to water.

Forget traps. Use a chemical spray under your sink  and along the paths upon which they travel. Ortho’s Home Defense is a good one; it comes in a large container with a pump-up handle and will pretty much banish the buggers. Spray baseboards, kickplates under cabinets, and under the fridge. Keep your sink cabinet clean and dry, spray there, and they will go elsewhere.

Little roaches, however, are difficult to exterminate. These are the half-to-three quarter inch variety, and they come out in numbers. You have them because you inherited them from a filthy individual or they hitched a ride home from another filthy individual. If you leave dirty dishes around, if you leave your trash to fester, they will come. And they are a nightmare to eliminate. I suggest the same chemicals and to clean up your act. Do NOT bring home paper bags or liquor boxes; they love the taste of glue and will be happy to relocate and then breed.

Let’s talk about the flea.

You can’t crush them, because they’ll just laugh and bounce away. They can jump the equivalent of you leaping a twelve-story building. They suck blood and killed most of Europe in the tenth, eleventh, twelfth and thirteenth centuries.

If you have them, they likely came from pets. Treat your pet with one of the chemicals that sterilize the females (Advantage and Revolution are two), and they will begin to die. It just takes a few drops placed between your pet’s shoulders to start the killing, then do it once a month.

If you have an infestation, get rid of your rug; that’s where they incubate. Sorry, it’s unlikely you can clean it of eggs. Remove all your cushions, take them outside, and vacuum your furniture. Vacuum the house BIGTIME. Wash your bedding and vacuum your bed, as well as the area beneath it. Go to the vet’s or the Farmer’s Association on Stagecoach Road and get VetKem or some seriously expensive spray with which to treat your cushions.

The most important thing is to keep the pets treated once a month with the sterilization drops. They will eventually go away.

Little black ants come into your kitchen and take over. What to do?

Wipe up the kool-aid and sweet stuff, go down to Besser Hardware and buy a small bottle of Terro Liquid. The ants will gather round the inch-wide pool you squeeze onto the counter (do it along their scent path), lap it up, and then they will disappear. Rinse and repeat if necessary. The stuff is very low in toxins and will do the trick.

My favorite bug (okay it’s an arachnid) is the chigger.

Small red dots the size of the point of a pin, these little boofers are the bane of humans in the summer woods of Arkansas. They live a charmed life, hanging on the edge of a blade of grass until they sense something warm-blooded walking by. Then they stretch out their tiny claws and get on your pants.

Before you can say ‘knife,’ the chigger crawls on your skin to constricted area such as your waistband or socks, where they find a pore. Then they bite     into it and secrete a substance that is both caustic and anesthetic, numbing the fact that your cell walls are dissolving. They suck up a minute amount of your protoplasm/blood/nuclei/mitochondria/farandolae (a tippo of the ol’ hat to Madeline L’Engle there), and then crawl off of your skin, dropping off into the grass to go and find a mate. Your blood helps to make many, many more chiggers.

And there’s the rub. You never get ONE chigger bite. You get fifty or a hundred. And the cell walls they infested continue to dissolve, making you itch for weeks. The common myth is that they die in your body, but that’s a lie. Nothing lives to die inside you unless it reproduces first, and chiggers just don’t play that.

Coat your constricted areas with DEET if you are going into the woods in summer, or if you want a less poisonous repellent, go online and get some Cactus Juice. Made from prickly pear extract, this crème smells like oranges, is non-greasy, and a tiny amount will keep the little boofers at bay for hours.

I haven’t even gotten to termites, mosquitoes, wasps, yellowjackets, or Sarah Palin yet! Stay tuned!

Next time; MORE bugs to kill! Summer’s just started.

Got a problem with my opinions, or, more likely, want to buy me drink? E-mail me at king.oldhousedoctor@gmail.com. I’ll be waiting.

THE OLD HOUSE DOCTOR 6-21-11

FUCKING BUGS AND WHY YOU SHOULD BE HAPPY TO KILL THEM PART TWO

“THEM WHAT STINGS”

I just can’t get enough bugs in my life, yaknowwhattamean, Vern?

Well, the bugs must think that, because they just won’t leave me alone.

Now I know that TRUE bugs are actually an entomological term, and they are actually different than wasps, dragonflies, and Mitt Romney. Okay, scratch that last one. And add Michelle Bachman to the list. Since she claims that carbon dioxide is such a harmless gas I figure that wrapping her in a plastic bag can only be good for the nation. We just have to make sure we don’t harm her antennae; she needs to sense every minute of the experience so she can tell us all about it in her next misinformational press conference.

So back off, bug scientists; this is MY column.

One of the banes of old house dwellers is that old houses present many places for stinging insects to nest. Since I’m still on my bug kick from last time, I shall continue.

Let’s talk about wasps.

Paper wasps come in a variety of colors, and all will sting you if you disturb them. Wasps and hornets have smooth stingers that can be used again and again, as opposed to the honeybee, which has a barbed stinger. This means that when a honeybee stings you, half its entrails are left behind along with the stinger. The bee goes off and dies, which is unfortunate. Bees are cool; don’t kill them. They eat nectar and make honey and little bees. Without them, you will die. Farms cannot function, flowering plants will not propagate. Pray for the world’s domestic bees, for they are in grave danger from apiary fungus and the invasion of imported, aggressive species that kill domestic hives and do not pollinate as prolifically.

Paper wasps, though, are aggressive and will attack you en masse. The red ones make small nests with up to five or six members of the colony, but the yellow striped variety make much larger nests and will defend their territory until you run away screaming with hundreds constantly stinging you.

If you have a red wasp nest, avoid it. If the wasps are striped with yellow, hire someone to destroy it, or you will be sorry.

         

      I nearly put my face into this nest on Arch Street. It was a dark morning.

Paper wasps, bad as they are, are the impotent little brother of the yellowjacket. Yellowjackets are hornets, and come in two varieties. There are those that live in the ground and those that live in wall cavities; the wall-cavity dwellers are referred to as European Hornets. Both will be happy to kill you.

More yellowjacket attacks happen because of lawnmowers disturbing the nest than for any other reason. They issue forth in a huge cloud and sting the hell out of anything warm-blooded; if it’s you, you are doomed. They fly at forty miles per hour, can constantly sting every second, and will follow you for a quarter mile to make their point. If you find a nest, call a professional; if you are stupid and brave, pour gasoline down it. Do not do this, really. They often have more than one entrance to the nest.

I am allergic to yellowjackets; five stings from a red wasp attack leaves me hurting, but three from yellowjackets is my limit before a hospital visit. If you are allergic, get your doctor to prescribe an epi-pen, and keep it with you. This is a one-time emergency syringe with enough steroids to keep your throat from closing after you’re stung, which is a handy thing, I can tell you. Stab your thigh right through your clothes, and hopefully you won’t die from anaphylactic shock.

Other ground-dwelling waspids to avoid (seriously, do NOT disturb or bother these, as they are non-aggressive but have extremely painful stings) are the cicada killer and the tarantula hawk. The cicada killer resembles a huge hornet, and the tarantula hawk is a large black wasp with red or orange wings. The cicada killer grows up to three inches long and the Arkansas variety of tarantula hawk seldom tops an inch and a half. Both dig an L-shaped tunnel and then go in search of large prey such as spiders and small dogs.

I have seen cicada killers two and a half inches long, clumsily flying back to their nest with a poor drugged locust. They will stuff their stunned prey into the tunnel, lay an egg in it, and go off to die. The young wasp wakes surrounded by food, and after eating their host alive a little at a time, emerges as a full-grown three inch wasp. This is a real-life “Alien.”

Have respect; leave them alone.

                    How many times do I need to tell you? LEAVE IT ALONE!!!!

If you have a bees’ nest in your home, I pity you. Wild bees are wonderful in trees in the wild, but a nuisance in the home, and are unlikely to be charmed into leaving. In fact, because of the apiary fungus spreading through domestic hives in the U.S.A., the rule is to kill the wild hive to staunch the spread of this very harmful condition. If you have a nest in your walls, the moisture from it will eventually dissolve the interior wall of your home, and they will come in for a visit.

Sorry, bees. I love you, but you need to go, and that usually means death if you nest in my house.

Individual bees should be left alone. They are your friends.

Bumblebees are not as goofy as you might think. Despite the fact that physicists keep telling them that their wings are too puny to allow them to fly (I’m not making this up), they do it anyway because they can’t read. They will live in any cavity that will allow them access, and if you disturb their nest, one will bumble around in front of you, lulling you into a sense of security. Meanwhile six more will sting your neck from behind. Leave them alone.

I grew up in Texas, where the centipedes grow to twelve inches and have two-inch stingers on their butts. Sporting orange legs and dark red bodies, I’m not sure why I avoided them; they’re just so darn cute. My point is that in Arkansas, even little centipedes can sting. Stomp them into centipaste if they invade your territory, otherwise let them go about their evil little business.

Scorpions are rife anywhere rock cavities occur; they like dry, cool places. I had a cabin in the Ozarks that apparently had an upside-down dance floor for these guys above my bed, because that’s where they’d perform. Kill them. They have very painful stings similar to hornets, and will hit you with that tail as many times as they can before they drop off the bed and crawl beneath it. Kill them as soon as you see them. The smaller and more transparent they are, the more wallop they pack. KILL THEM!!

Mud daubers, believe it or not, have a very powerful sting, but are so non-aggressive that most people think they don’t sting. Yes, they do. Leave them alone or whap them if they infest your shop. Just stand and listen for their buzzing while they go about their business in their nest; you’ll hear them.

Carpenter bees are solitary bumblebees that bore small round holes in wood, then fly about to guard their hole. They are not dangerous, though they can sting. I have several at my house, and they are pure entertainment. Leave ‘em be.

Fire ants must be destroyed. My country neighbors pour gasoline in their mounds, and I don’t know if that’s any more harmful to the environment than using the expensive toxins made for that purpose. I HATE them and kill them any way I can. I leave the big red ants alone; they don’t seem to bother me.

Speaking of ants, if you come across a big hairy ant with red and black fur, leave it alone! It is a velvet ant, a type of wasp. It means no harm to you, but it will sting you if you bother it. Observe it and learn how to get along with your environment.

Funny how I started out this colulumn killing everything, but as soon as I got to the stinging, dangerous bugs, I tell you to leave many of them alone.

Hey, there’s still Ron Paul, though he seems to keep his other two appendages hidden. I always thought he was that crossdresser with the TeeVee shows. Go figure.

Bitch at me at king.oldhousedoctor@gmail.com. Then go eat a bug.

THE OLD HOUSE DOCTOR

12-21-01

GRANDPA

          “Why, back in MY day,” Grandpa said as he sat on the pile of rubble that was once the Crescent Hotel, “we had ALL kind of tech-know-logical marvels….. ONLY THE PEOPLE WHO LIVED HERE WERE TOO LAZY TO USE ‘EM!!!” The group of children at his feet were taken aback by his tone. No one spoke loudly and vehemently about opinions since the PC Act of 2023. Grandpa continued. He didn’t hold to PC.

          “Sure as kin be, and you don’t believe me!” he spit. “Why, those lazy bugggers wouldn’t even go out in the rain to look at their houses to see where the water was soaking the woodwork!” The kids yawned. Old people DO rave.. “And NOW look around you.” He swept his arm widely, nearly bowling over Tquiera. “None of the old buildings left.” A heavy sigh was heard. The children looked around.

          He was right. They had all seen pictures of the town back at the turn of the century, and at the turn of the century before. It was beautiful, with a rich mix of stone, iron and wood architectural elements. The early city had built in the trees, then had stripped the forest around it. The restored city of the late twentieth century had a robust mix of buildings and trees, but the population elected to preserve the trees and ignore the buildings. The trees grew, and the buildings declined.

          The scene in the Eureka valley was a mixed jumble of foliage, plastic, chrome and lines that held no concert with one another. Curves fought with angles, and war waged between the natural and the artificial.

          “It’s the people’s fault,” Grandpa sniffed, a tear coursing unevenly down his wrinkles. “Stupid PEOPLE didn’t know what they had. One of the most fantastic cities in creation, and their petty bickering let it slip through their hands…” He trailed off. M’lina turned to ask, “Why?”

          “Why?” Grandpa repeated, looking at her eager face and smiling. It was a question seldom asked in these days of political conformity. “Because people were CHEAP, that’s why. Because they valued their leisure time above their architecture. Because they would rather watch their properties disintegrate and complain about it, than to get off their lazy butts and keep them up.” The children were giving him their full attention now. He narrowed his eyes and told them the awful truth. “Because they would rather argue against their neighbor in a public forum than be seen with a hammer in their hand.” They gasped.

         

THE OLD HOUSE DOCTOR 1-7-02

GRANDPA AGAIN

Grandpa led the children through the streets of Eureka Valley: it seemed a strange procession to those who watched from behind pulled curtains. Grandpa was going on about the “goodle days”, back a couple of hundred years ago. Before the Water Wars, before the Corporate Government. The group stopped before a fast food stand backed by a thirty-foot cliff. Grandpa cackled at the familiar logo, which he referred to as “the big yellow bum”.

“This was called Basin Spring back then,” he croaked. “Used to be a park.” Tyree spoke first.

“What’s a spring?” Grandpa looked sadder than before. He shook his head slowly.

“This town was called Eureka Springs once. It had hundreds of places where clean water just bubbled out of the ground.” The kids looked doubtful. Water was bought at the Depot, it didn’t flow on the ground. “Did too, and in the King’s Valley, too.” The kids asked what had happened to all the water.

“Oh, well, it disappeared when everybody moved out of town. They all dug wells and the groundwater just dried up. The people moved out of town when the tourists stopped coming.” He could see what was coming, and didn’t wait for the attack. “The tourists stopped because the town got shabby, and it got shabby because people argued about how to keep it up. They argued with the city government, they argued with each other, and the worst thing in the world happened. No new people moved into town. The populace grew old and bitter, and nobody wanted to work on the old houses because of all the rules the city set up. Not that they were all bad. But working on old houses is hard enough, and the workers made more money outside of Eureka. Without craftsmen or caring owners, the old buildings fell apart..”

“I want to go home,” M’lina sniffled. Grandpa sighed.

“So do I, child. So do I.”

          

AXE THE EGGSPURT

Originally Appeared in the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette

12-2011

We at CM Construction get a lot of ‘water backing up’ calls this time of year, and the recent heavy rains haven’t slowed the calls down. Of course you’re supposed to clean out your gutters after the leaves have fallen, and that means now. If you are careful on a ladder or have a company to do it, here are some tips for you and your contractor.

Even if you have gutter screens, you need to clean them off, especially if you have pine trees. Pine needles often get caught in the riffles that keep out the leaves. And unless they are installed properly, they can be more trouble than open gutters. Check for debris infiltration where the screens are loose.

Thump on your downspouts, especially on the elbows. If they have a dull thud instead of the delicious hollow sound, they are packed with rotting leaves. These cause water to back up in the gutters and will invite collapse, as gutters aren’t built to carry that much dead weight.

If your downspouts empty into an underground drain, thump that elbow above the drain inlet; if it’s full, your drain may be clogged and you need to have a plumber snake it clean.

Don’t forget to get the leaves out of the roof valleys; more roof leaks happen because of that than almost anything else. You can attach a long pole to your rake if you are timid or if your roof is steep. Getting up on a ladder is inherently dangerous, so use your best judgment as to whether you should do it at all. If a mass of leaves gets soaked and we have an ice storm, the ice dam may take a week to thaw and the pool behind it will find its way into your attic.

A downspout that empties right next to the foundation should have an extension or trough to carry away the water, whether you have a basement, a concrete slab, or a pier-and-beam foundation. Water is the enemy of the foundation; get it away. If you don’t like the look of extensions or troughs and you need to redirect your drainage, there are underground extensions available with popup valves that exit in your yard.

OLD HOUSE DOCTOR 1-5-03

LEAD, PROTECTION AND LOVE

Dear Old House Doctor,

          This is only slightly about Old Houses. I am a single female just moving into an old farmhouse in the country. I’d like to get a dog for protection. Are there any precautions I should take concerning dogs in Old Houses?  Signed Novice Country Girl

Dear Novice,

          There is only one concern I have about dogs and old houses, and it applies to ALL dogs. Old wood houses used to be covered with lead paint, which, when it inevitably peeled off, fell to the ground close to the house and got pulverized into dust by the rain coming off the roof. This dust worked its way into the soil, and your dog, which especially likes the taste of lead, will dig to it and eat the soil. This will eventually kill it in a most lingering, horrible fashion. To avoid this, test the soil in several places near the house’s foundation. There are numerous labs in Springfield and Fayetteville that will test your soil for a very reasonable price. They will supply you with special collection vials and instructions on how to do it. Hot spots can be removed and replaced with new soil.

          If you see your dog digging in a particular spot and eating the soil, do not hesitate to test it for lead poisoning. Of course, make sure it’s not just following the neighborhood cats around.

          Let me climb up on my soapbox here for a minute. I am often queried on the best dog to get for home protection. I have the same answer for everyone: get a friend, not a trained killer. You are going to have to live with this animal and with your neighbors. If you give an unwanted animal a loving home environment, I guarantee you will be loved and protected like never before. And your neighbors and kids might just live through it, too.

          So go to Good Shepherd Animal Shelter and pick out a mutt. Purebreds often have more health problems, and the Shelter’s black yearling males are friendly, impressive, and less likely to get adopted than others. Fix him and fence him.

          Then when ex-boyfriend Du-Wayne comes around, he might go elsewhere for his bi-weekly girlfriend thumping.

THE OLD HOUSE DOCTOR 10-31-09

TIS THE SEASON TO...OH, FORGET IT

You think you’re so smart.

You sit there in your ergonomically correct vibrating chair shaped like a big hand, sipping Benedictine and looking smug. You fondle your diploma (is that what they’re calling it these days?) from the Bedford Institute of Eclectic Imagineering and think about the goodle days, when you dated girls with names like Muffy and Candace, while living in the frat house with Mitch and Biff. Maybe you were dating them too, I dunno.

You think you’re so smart.

The problem with people like you is that you are educated in things like Political Snarkyness and Management Through the Business End of a Fountain Pen. Then your sink backs up and you have to turn to people like me to save your smarmy ass. Or like Cletis the Plumber, who purposefully forgets to wear a belt so he can give your wife a show when he bends down to fix the sink. Or maybe it’s for your benefit. I saw you looking.

These things always seem to happen right around the Holidays, when Todd and Buffy are over for Roast Suckling Duckling raised on fois gras and truffles in a politically correct farmyard. While listening to Mozart.

And it’s all because you never learned how to fix anything around your house. You were too snooty to pick up a wrench and a claw hammer.

Now you need to beg my help.

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HOO HOO HOO HEE HEE ug gluckle braaaaaaap!

‘Scuse me.

Have you gone around your house, closing foundation vents so the crawlspace will stay warm through the winter? Have you tapped on your gutter downspouts to locate clogs, then flushed them with a hose? Of course you haven’t. You’re too busy watching “Let’s Eat Us a Millionaire” and reruns of “CSI-PDF-IRT-LBJ-Indio.” Oh, yes, precious. I know you only too well.

Have you gotten naked on the floor to find out where the cold air is coming from? No, of course not. Have you climbed the tree in the front yard to wave your newly-painted butt at the neighbors? Okay, maybe you should think twice about that one.

But I’ll bet you haven’t bought any ice-melt, have you? How are you going to get to the squash court when it freezes, or to the BMW dealer? For God’s sake, man, your car is almost four months old! How long are you going to wait to trade it in?

Have you made sure all your storm windows are closed? Of course you haven’t. You have insulated replacement windows that don’t NEED storms. You cretin. You probably didn’t even know that storm windows exist, or that they need to be checked to see that they’re completely closed. There are starving children in New Guinea that don’t even have any storm windows.

What about the cat? Have you fitted it with earmuffs and galoshes? You don’t have a cat? Sure, I’ll bet you’ve got a thoroughbred dog like an Albanian Snood Terrier or a Mongolian Water Spaniel or a Plutonian Gyroscopic Needle Hound. Well, there’s no use in telling you to make sure it has a dry, warm place to get out of the weather when it’s outside, because I’m sure it never GOES outside. It probably never leaves its eighteenth-century antique couch except when its manservant has to dust beneath it, and then it’s put onto its OTHER eighteenth-century couch. But only for a few seconds.

Is the weatherstripping around the door sealing properly? Have you opened the flue to the chimney before starting the first fire of the season? THAT would be a riot. Of course you’d ask Jeeves to do it, because any type of manual labor would just ruin your manicure, and you must avoid calluses at all costs. What would they say down at The Club?

“Oh, look! Quigley’s been opening doors by himself again! My, My! Soon he’ll be lifting his own fork! Let Jeeves do it, old man! That’s what we’ve got servants for! Other than for flogging, that is. Now where did I put my gold encrusted diamond-handled putter?”

I’m sure you haven’t put anti-freeze into the toilet bowls and tanks out at the lake house. That’s what normal people do when their seldom-used vacation houses haven’t been occupied for weeks or months in the winter. People do that with untenanted rent houses, too. Rent houses. RENT hou… What? You don’t know what a rent house is? That figures.

I’d tell you to stock up on candles and easily-prepared foods for power outages. That’s what we poor people do anyway. You must think that it’s quaint that we with electric ovens and stoves have to use our charcoal grills for cooking when the ice takes down the lines. I’m sure you keep warm by burning servants. They do tend to crackle and pop, though, after they get going pretty good.

Well, I don’t know if I’ve left anything out. Gutters, storms, foundation vents, blackout supplies. None of them are really of any importance to you, anyway. You’ll be off to Staad next week for a skiing vacation with Muffy before flying to The Seychelles to bask on the black sand beaches while eating snow-leopard steaks and sipping tropical drinks made with liquor fermented from morel mushrooms. By the time you return, you’ll be staying in your Central Park West Condo, then you’ll jet to Hawaii for the rest of the winter. You really don’t have to worry about winterizing your house at all, do you.

Especially when you left the keys with Cletis and me.

PARTY TIME!!!!

Got a gripe or a question, or want to learn more about Plutonian Gyroscopic Needle Hounds? Me too. Write me at king.oldhousedoctor@gmail.com, and I’ll do my best to ignore you, you stoner, you.