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I’ve
spent weeks preparing for two plumbing jobs under the house. In olden times, I
would have taken measurements, bought my materials, and set to work, all on the
same day. Now that I’m in pain and
out of shape, I’ve been planning every detail with the goal of making the jobs as easy as possible, mostly through breaking them down into manageable portions, and trying to minimize how much I will have to crawl around under the house on
any given occasion.
I’m now through with my planning, purchasing, and pipe preparation, and I’m
just waiting for good weather to crawl under there, lie on my back in dripping
sewage, and remove three 1 ½ ” galvanized drain pipes with a circular saw that will
be running inches from my face and burning my scalp with sparks. Oh, the joy! I
love hard and dirty projects as much as I love going camping with Peggy. They
make me feel like a man. They give me a chance to use my skill and my
intelligence to accomplish something that I can stand back and look at with
pride for as long as I live in this house, which might very well be until I
die.
Peggy
has pleaded with me repeatedly to hire a plumber, but the job might suck either
way. If I hire someone, I’ll feel that much worse about myself; I’ll miss out
on work I enjoy; and we’ll be out hundreds of dollars. If I don’t hire someone,
I risk causing myself weeks of pain. Peggy doesn’t understand how
important such work is to me because to her it just looks like something hard and filthy that's best left to someone else, no matter what shape one is in. To me, it's what I
need if I’m to find value in being alive.
I
wrote the above a few days ago, and did one of the jobs yesterday. I spent five
hours straight under the house because I had the clothes washer and kitchen sink disconnected (during my next project, the whole house will be disconnected),
making it necessary to see the job through. I could have crawled out to take
breaks, of course, but I wanted to spare my joints, and I could best do that by
not by crawling anymore than necessary. I’m excited to report that I had a good
night last night. I was awfully sore, but my joints were no worse for wear. I’ve
been slowly getting better for a couple of months now, and the work I did
yesterday far exceeds anything I’ve taken on for years, joint-wise. I am becoming guardedly hopeful.
Both photos are from yesterday. I'm not through hanging pipe in the top picture, but I am through replacing it. Peggy took the second picture when the job was done.
