Apparently this was posted in 2012, if the intro is to be believed. Din't know I went back that far with this thing. More Winter Prep. You'd think you'd know about this stuff by now. Sheesh.






Jeez, it's been a while since I posted. You should check out "Architectural Vestiges" because that's where I've been hanging out. If you like the drivel in THIS blog, you'll love "vestiges."

This is from two winters ago, but aside from the mention of the midterm elections, all still holds up.

THE OLD HOUSE DOCTOR

 11-10-10

TURNING TO WINTER AND WHAT YOU CAN’T DO ABOUT IT

 

The wettest, coolest year in ever in Arkansas was, of course, followed by the hottest, driest ever. If that’s not incentive for moving to Canada, I don’t know what is. Also possibly the mid-term election results. Either way, more than my faith in Americans’ voting preferences is cracking.

I have received more calls than ever about plaster cracking. Not drywall, mind you, but plaster. It seems the extremes in temperature and moisture are playing havoc with the expansion and contraction gods, and they’re taking it out on you.

Hairline cracks can be taped with fiberglass mesh and floated smooth with drywall mud, but larger, deeper cracks may require special attention. Open the crack to a width of 3/16ths of an inch with a utility knife or paint scraper, making sure to expose the spaces in the wood lath behind. If the plaster is on brick, you don’t have to worry about the spaces. Like duh.

Create an inverted ‘v’ by making the bottom of the crack wider than the top, vacuum out the dust, wet down the crack with water from a squirt bottle, then fill the crack with setting-type joint compound. This stuff comes in powder form, will set up hard in the time indicated on the bag (20 to 90 minutes), and will bind the wall back together. Make sure to push the wet mixture deep into the crack with enough pressure to squeeze it through the spaces in the lath behind. Make sure it lies lower than the surface of the plaster, because after it dries, you will float out the repair with regular old drywall mud.

It’s a great way to spend the holidays, especially if Cousin Guido comes to visit with a large suitcase and his drum kit.

Old houses have some issues particular to them at this time of year, so I’m now going to chastise you for not attending to them.

Have you closed your foundation vents? How about the gable vents in the attic? You cretin. These only make your electric bill more astronomical than normal. And though some of you will erroneously assume that closing attic vents will lead to moisture buildup, trust me. Your old home’s attic is so full of air infiltration that you could put a humidifier up there and the steam it creates wouldn’t even condense.

Put some Styrofoam hose bibb covers onto your outside hose bibbs. And don’t ask me where the word ‘bibb’ comes from; I’m still trying to figure out the origin of ‘soffit,’ and I’ve been using that word for thirty-five years. Pipes near open foundation vents are subject to freezing first; wrap them or cover you damn vents already.

This has been a banner year for rats and mice; I found this out the hard way when I fired up my oven for the first time since spring (I cook exclusively outside in the hot months). Oh, my! The kitchen has a rather piquant aroma now, I can tell you. Time for the Easy-Off. I’ve been pretty successful with warfarin baits in my client’s homes, but I prefer a goodle fashioned mousetrap with peanut butter. Creamy Jif, of course. I wouldn’t touch the stuff, but the meeses love it. The problem with poison is that it sometimes leads to dead rodents in the wall. Then you’ll be calling me to extract them.

Okay, enough of that subject. Let’s talk about something much more pleasant; your house burning down.

The holidaze are upon you, and though the Grinch in me screams “Get them off!!,” (hey, Chuck! Remember that line from the 1996 OHD?) you are saddled with them. Don’t like it? Become an atheist. After the operation, you’ll hardly notice the difference. Everyone else will, though.

Several wonderful scenarios come to my mind at this time of year; the dog watering the tree in his own special way, the kids lopping off limbs with real light sabers you were stupid enough to give them for Christmas, Cousin Guido thumping away upstairs as he practices Led Zeppelin’s “Moby Dick.”

But the scene that pushes these out of the way is that of the wires in your wall sizzling before they ignite.

Holidays tend to see more of a load on your electrical circuits due to the electronic games, computers, DVD players and other gifty effluvia you people waste your money on (excuse me; that was rude! I meant to write ‘on which you waste your money’). Add the lights and the robot Santa and eight tiny reindeer on the roof, and you might be heading for disaster.

If you have had your old house completely rewired with grounded Romex (identified by a plastic white or yellow sheath surrounding a bare wire, a white wire and a black wire), and you have a large gray breaker box equipped with black switch-type breakers, you might be in the clear. If, however, you have screw-in fuses, you might already be on fire.

Most homes with these early fuse boxes have a much more limited electrical load capacity, and therefore can only handle so many Wiis and Xboxes.

Honestly, who comes up with these names? They’re complete undiluted drivel.

The fact that you might have ungrounded sheathed cable (usually indicated by silver sheathing or two-pronged receptacles) lets you know that power surges, spikes and close lightning strikes are not going to be safely directed into the ground. And even if you have three-pronged outlets, they should be checked by an electrician; many older homes have had these installed on a two-wire system.

If you go into the attic and can see two individual wires running side by side and held off the joists with white porcelain insulators, you have what is known as a ‘knob and tube’ system, which is the most ancient of all. Even if it is ancient and ungrounded, it only becomes unsafe when it is either covered with cellulose insulation, has its sheathing removed, or becomes overloaded. The insulating sheathing on this type of wire is cloth-covered rubber, which, if disturbed, will crumble like American voters’ resolve does every two years. And if something crosses the two wires, there will be many sparks and a nice warm conflagration next to which you can warm your toes.

So don’t overload your system. Remember that VOLTS are used as a measurement of how much power comes from the outlet (110 in most cases, 220 for stoves, air conditioners and dryers), but AMPS are the amount of load that each appliance draws. Microwaves, power tools, and toasters draw 20 to thirty amps, and most of the breakers in your house will trip beyond this level. Run two thirty amp appliances on one circuit, and the breaker will trip. But if it’s a screw-in fuse, it will burn out if you’re lucky. Otherwise, get the marshmallows.

Electricity is nothing to take lightly. Talk to an electrician before big chunks of sizzling power begin to roll around the house.

Some other things you haven’t though about because you’re too busy watching television shows about snarky people trying outdo one another’s snarkiness, or featuring decomposed bodies and how they got that way (really, who writes this ordure? And more importantly, why do you watch it?).

Have you got the ice melt? It won’t do you any good if it’s still at the hardware store after the Big Storm. Got candles? Have you outfitted at least one room with a gas space heater so you won’t freeze your butt off when the power is out for six days?

I heat my house exclusively with antique gas heaters, and I will laugh at your pleas to stay at my home as you shiver at the bottom of my stairs. And you won’t be able to climb them, either, because though I HAVE ice melt, I don’t use it on the stairs specifically to deter freeloaders like you.

Well, there you have it.

Chunks of falling plaster, freezing pipes, rats in the oven, your house going up in flames, falling on the ice, living in an unheated house for a week, and Cousin Guido practicing Led Zeppelin on his drums in your guest room upstairs. Have I left anything out?

Oh, yeah, decomposed bodies and the kids lopping off each other’s arms.

That should just about do it.

This is the Old House Doctor telling you to have a Big Merry One.

I need a drink.