Minor catastrophes

Last week the electricians came to rough-in the house. Our plumber, who also does HVAC (heating, ventilation, air conditioning) came around a second time to install the air ducts and the heat-recovery unit.


Washer & Dryer hook-up, downstairs bath



Purty wires



Telephone/internet/cable hook-up



More purty wires



Ventilation ducts and pot lights in kitchen


We had hoped to be in a position to insulate last weekend, but the inspectors for the electrical (run by a provincial, not municipal, office) have a decidedly less flexible schedule than the municipal office, so we couldn’t get an appointment until Tuesday of this week. Last weekend, we took a break. The in-laws stayed home, and we relaxed the way good nerds do: we watched Lord of the Rings trilogy while scarfing nachos & white wine on the couch.



So the electrical inspection went well on Tuesday. Everything passed – good to go.

We also scheduled our municipal inspection of plumbing/mechanical/framing for yesterday. That went not so well. We arrived last night (in disgusting sleeting rain) to find two reports: one for plumbing, the other for framing. The inspection report for the plumbing had only one minor suggestion (to support a pipe). It’ll take ten minutes and one piece of two foot strapping.

The framing inspection had half a page of text, listing all the things that would be needed before we could insulate. While most could conceivably be completed with one day of diligent work, there was one glaring problem. Our windows (plural) in the bedrooms (plural) did not meet egress. This is carpenter-speak for bad news. The inspector figured our windows were not up to code, being too small for the size of the rooms and not a suitable exit vehicle for emergencies like fire. The fix?? All new windows in the bedrooms, at a cost of several thousand (not to mention three weeks lag time). Of course, we were bummed, so we went to a sit-down restaurant and drowned our sorrows in greasy garlic goodness, and then walked around the mall (the food cheered him up, the shopping me). And last night, when we got home, my husband meticulously checked over our measurements, comparing them to his national code book. I was sleepy with food, dozing/reading in bed when he finally came to bed mumbling that as far as he could tell, we DID meet code. Me: “So we’ll see tomor…Zzzz….”.

This morning husband called the inspector. Nonchalantly, dude quips something like “Oh, well, when I came back to the office and double checked my numbers I found that you are within code.” WTF?!? We were freaking out over nothing. Thanks, bastard. You owe me forty bucks for dinner at a pizza joint, and if you could take back the 1800 calories that would be nice too. Kthanx.

So all looks bright and sunny again. I’m taking off from work tomorrow so that I can help get the place ready for insulating. My mum is coming down! My mum is coming down!

Which reminds me that I will also be spending lots of time cleaning up the pit we call our apartment. Ohmygodgivemestrength. Egads.