Thanks to the plumbers who came padding through our house in booties over their steel-toed shoes in the last 2 days, I am now dangerously competent in the language of snakes, blow bags, P-traps, and cleanouts. When the culprit of the washer drain line clog was discovered, a hush fell across the room, followed by murmurs of "What the...?" (Okay, so the audience was just one guy and me.) How this giant bolt-looking object got in there remains a mystery. Now comes the almost equally arduous (and costly) task of closing up the big hole. Aah, the joys of homeownership!
1 comment:
holy crap... need a close up of the offending agent :) -a
Post a Comment