I have always wanted a house of my own. So, at almost half a century, I took the plunge and bought the perfect house. It was old but in wonderful shape. Original woodwork, two fireplaces, small but big rooms, a true Arts and Crafts style. They sure knew how to build things in those days. My antiques will look so good in here. I can set up a workshop in the basement to do my furniture refinishing and upholstery, won't have to have all that stuff laying around messing up the house. I don't know why I didn't do this sooner.

However, I didn't realize when I found my "perfect" house, a mere three blocks from where I was renting, it was situated in a black hole, or alternate reality, or some such thing. It didn't reveal that to me until the final day of moving. I should have run then, but how was I to know it was an Energy Pit? I mean it was such a minor problem.

The washer and dryer hook-ups were in the bathroom, one of those huge rooms that had probably been a bedroom at one time. As we opened the door to carry in the dryer, I noticed that the door hit the end of the tub, thus preventing it from opening fully. No big deal except it prevented the washer and dryer from going through. So, you just take the door off right? Didn't matter because I was going to take that tub out and put the claw foot in I'd been saving for years, waiting for the perfect house. An hour or so, plus one beginning hernia later from lifting the washer over the end of the tub, all was well. We finished moving at ten pm that night and I fell on the couch exhausted, taking off nothing but my shoes.

I literally bounced up the next day, ready to start making the perfect house my home. I made it two steps inside the bathroom door and stopped. I'm not the brightest bulb but even I know carpet isn't suppose to squirt water up between your toes. And I was at the end of the room with no plumbing, so it dawned on me that the carpet must be really wet on the other end. Well, doing a little plumbing is ONE way of really making it your home. Not where I figured on starting, but after all it IS an old house. Undeterred, I sloshed my way to the other end of the room where the toilet was. Normal business outta the way, I started looking for the leak. I felt the toilet pipes. Dry. Sink. Dryer still.

Tub. Uh, tub. Where were the tub pipes? I couldn't see any tub pipes. Okay, you're not doing this very smart. First you need to go to the basement and shut off the water. Then you can roll the carpet up and find the pipes. After all, you were going to take the carpet up anyway and go back to the wood floors.

Still smiling, especially at my disorganization, I headed for the basement. But, I hadn't had a cup of coffee yet and no one thinks their best under those conditions. I lifted the heavy cellar-type door leading to the basement outside and almost ran down the few steps because I was still barefooted and it was winter. I switched the light on just inside the bottom, upright door and did a fancy pirouette to face the incoming water pipe. It had been wrapped several times in insulation, and then duck taped. I felt all along the insulation for the shut-off although it was so poofy it was hard to feel anything. Which didn't matter because there was nothing to feel. The feed pipe was insulated halfway into the basement. You knew it was old when you bought it. So big deal, there's no shut-off down here. You can call the Water Company Monday and have them turn the water off and put one in.

I did not pirouette out, however. I went to the kitchen and fixed coffee. I figured I wasn't to Ark point yet, so I needed it. After a couple cups of java, I was eager to pull the carpet up and see the wood floor.

It was fairly new carpet and had only been tacked in a few places. I started on the plumbing end so I could find the tub problem. I didn't even need a tack puller. After a few feet, I realized why. I wasn't looking at wood; I was looking at squares of some kind of linoleum that must've been forty years old. It was so hard the tacks had barely penetrated it. Oh well, how hard can something this old be to get up?

I rolled the carpet as I moved toward the tub, intending to take it to the basement to dry in case someone I knew wanted it. While I was on a "roll" so to speak, I kept at it through the whole room. Under the dryer, pant, pant. And under the washer, adding strength to the beginning hernia. But it was finally to the other wall. I sat on the floor sweating and panting for a few minutes. I idly picked at a linoleum square, noticing how much like glass it felt. I didn't notice right at that moment that none of it came up from my picking.

I did find pipes, well a little bit of them, with the carpet removed. It appeared they went into the wall and didn't have any shut-offs so I taped the leak and went to a hardware store. I bought forty-two shut-off valves, one hundred feet of half-inch PVC in five-foot lengths and tried to buy a gallon of glue. The man helping me said it didn't come in anything but those teeny containers, so I got a dozen. He really didn't think I needed quite that much stuff but I was already getting an uneasy feeling I couldn't identify. My neighbor haled me as I got out so I wandered over to chat before unloading.

"I'm Larry. I use to live in your house, oh, 'bout 20 years ago, you know."

"No, I didn't know that. Oh, I'm sorry. My name's Mary. Great house, isn't it?"

"So Mary, married? Any kids?"

He probably didn't hear me. Seems like he's a little elderly.

"No, just me and the dog. How 'bout you?"

"You're living there ALONE?"

Must be hard of hearing. Hasn't heard a single thing I asked him.

"Yup, me and ole Killer. I love it. Oh, maybe you can help me, Larry? When you were living there did the bathroom have carpet or the linoleum?"

"Nah, wasn't no carpet back then."

"Do you know an easy way to get that stuff up?"

"Easy?” Larry laughed. "Well, if you’re lucky you can heat it up with a blowtorch and peel it up but I tried that here and it still wouldn't all come up so I had to put carpet down."

"A blowtorch? Uh, what kind of work do you do Larry?"

"Oh, occasionally new construction, but mostly remodeling older houses. Done a lot of work for the Historical Society."

"Well, see ya soon. I have tons to do. Nice meeting you, Larry." I walked home with my unease cranking up to mild anxiety. A blowtorch?

I worked on the shut-off in the basement the next day and felt quite productive. I cut off about four feet of the insulated pipe so I could see what I was doing since I had my brand new five-foot lengths. I threw it behind me.

Clank.

Does PVC clank? I walked over and picked it up. I didn't notice how heavy this was. PVC isn't heavy. I started tearing at the insulation, throwing bits of it over my shoulder and actually snarling when I had to loosen the duck tape. I finally got to the industrial strength shut-off contained in the four-foot length I just cut off. Cursing, I threw it against the sandstone wall where it immediately bounced back and hit me in the shin. I began installing the new shut-off through tears of pain.

When I turned the water back on, I cleaned up at the kitchen sink. The left faucet leaked. I opened the doors underneath with a certainty there would be no shut-offs. I was right.

I went to the bathroom and looked at the tub leak. I decided it wasn't that bad with the tape and could wait another day. However, I noticed a puddle of water as I started to walk out. Confused, I looked at the ceiling although the house was only one story. I just stared at the ceiling for a long time. Shaking myself like a dog, I brought myself back to earth. I looked around. The washer?

Feeling the hook-ups, they were both wet. Is there ANY plumbing in this house that works? I stuck a bucket under them and went to watch TV.

In a couple of minutes, I was deep into an old rerun of "Murder She Wrote." If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s pushing things out of my mind to deal with later. Happily petting the dog, both of us munching on microwave popcorn, something caught my attention but subconsciously. I frowned, wondering what it was.

"Killer" as I referred to my wimpy dog, nudged the popcorn bag and I forgot about it. During a commercial, I threw a load of clothes in the washer, figuring turned on shut-offs wouldn't leak more than turned off ones. I was settled back in as Jessica laid the final trap for the killer, when my attention was arrested again. The lights dimmed. What is up with this?

They brightened again so I decided it was the fluke of an old house. I sighed in satisfaction as Jessica brought the evil wrongdoer to justice and checked the guide and saw a murder mystery was coming on. I put the clothes in the dryer, and settled back on the couch to really enjoy the show. In the middle of an "edge of your seat" part, the dryer went off.

Grumbling, I went to grab the clothes and fold them in front of the TV. Damn, these things are soaking wet. Oh just great, out onto the porch to check fuses in sub zero weather. I checked them, but those long fuses don't show if they're burnt up like the clear ones do. Just add 'em to your list, no one’s been living here for a while so there's bound to be a few cranky things. Might as well get four new clear fuses too. WHAT? Four? This is a SIXTY-amp box? MY God, my microwave needs twenty amps.

Despondent, I went back inside. The lights dimmed again but I noticed the furnace came on at the same time.

"Hello. Mr. Rates? My name is Mary and you came highly recommended to me. Could you tell me if you'd be able to come and check out my electricity? ... Later today? That would be great. If I don't answer the door, holler in the basement because I'm doing a little plumbing."

"Oh no, oh no my dear this is all wrong." Mr. Rates was inspecting.

"Oh my, just look at this. Oh my goodness how did THAT happen?"

"Uh, Mr. Rates? I'm taking a break so we'll talk when you're done, okay?"

I sadly dragged myself up the five basement stairs. Now, look on the bright side. At least you are finding and catching these things early. Has to be 'bout all that's wrong.

Larry yelled a greeting from across the street. I trudged over and he said, "See ya got Rates here. Hell of an electrician. He'll get you all

straightened out. Oh, Mary? I was wondering, have you noticed your roof is sagging over here?"

I blindly turned around, more to keep Larry from seeing the tears suddenly stinging my eyes than to look where he was pointing. However, I could see a serious sag in the roof. Without turning back I said, "Hmmm, better go have a look in the attic at that."

I slammed the perfect door on my perfect house going inside, causing Killer to jump and the old ceramic knobs to fall off. I stomped to the closet where the entry to the attic was and shoved the ladder in. Once I was in the attic, I angrily jumped from joist to joist until I made it over to the chimney. Behind it, not viewable from any place else in the attic, was the rafter that was split almost the whole length that faced Larry's house. I sat on a joist and cried,

big fat tears that wet the meager insulation.

I have no idea how long I sat there in a well of self-pity but suddenly I heard footsteps. I had forgotten the electrician.

"Now don't you worry, little lady, this can be fixed."

Just about everything can be fixed. For a price.

"Uh, Mr. Rates, what all is it going to take to fix it?

"Well. I won't lie to you, no sir, not way I do business. And it's bad, real bad. Why, your furnace is wired to your lights. Seen some crazy things in old houses, but this’s a first."

Oh, you ain't seen nothing yet. Hope you don't need to wash your hands.

"Yes, but just what do we need to do?"

"Well I tell ya, little lady, if you'll help me I'll only charge thirty dollars an hour instead of forty. How's that sound?"

"I'll be happy to help but just talking round figures here, 'bout how much are we talking?"

"Well, I can get all the supplies with my discount and that way you'll know it's the right stuff. I really can't see this going over two thousand."

Everything dimmed then went black.

When he helped me up I said, "I'm sorry, tripped over something behind me. Uh, when can you start?"

"Well, I'll try to come by Friday, but I always call my customers the night before."

“Well, I'll look forward to seeing you then. Let me get my number, oh and please call me Mary." One more John Wayne remark from you and I won't be responsible for my actions."

"Why thank ya, that's mighty nice. And you can just call me Bob."

I decided to relax in a nice, hot bubble bath later. Finally, I forced myself out and flipped the drain switch. That's seems like a funny noise for a drain to make, kinda splashy. I peered down through the holes between the pipes and realized that water pouring on concrete in the basement makes a splashy sound. When I went downstairs, I saw the drainpipe was split about eight inches.

Shock is a wonderful thing. It enables your body to survive even the harshest reality. Oh look. That's really cool how all that water is heading to the overflow drain. Ooooops, I think the overflow just overflowed. Oh look, now the water is coming toward me and all these boxes and furniture I put down here. Who woulda thought? Well, it's almost time for Murder She Wrote.

My sister says I've only been here a little over two months and I'm making remarkable progress. She came down a couple days after the drain problem because she had been unable to reach me by phone. The staff here told me I had the phone unplugged, and was doing dishes in the kitchen sink that was backing out onto the kitchen floor, humming. There was about an inch of water in the bathroom from the tub leak and washer faucets. The basement had over eight inches and it appeared I had continued to bathe and allow the water to "splash" into the basement, reporting I considered it such a happy sound. The toilet was running non-stop although they didn't know how long that had been going on. The

tank top was off as if I'd tried to stop it, but I again told them it reminded me of a soothing waterfall. The electric was off; all the fuses having blown.

Yet, I had tried to get my sister to sit in front of the blank picture with me insisting Jessica was on. Killer was fine, well fed and had been going out although none of the neighbors knew when. The only thing I could remember was we sat outside a lot when all the lights were in the sky and usually came in when the singing birds interrupted our solitude. The house sold and I only lost twenty-four thousand dollars. Sissy says she has a court case going against the previous owners, but I'm sure they couldn't have known all this.

They have the most marvelous Occupational Therapy Dept. here. Not like most places with little crafty projects. I'm taking beginning plumbing and electric wiring.