Inklings
Sound the alarm - Or not
Janice Lindsay

Uh, oh. We had a crack in our downstairs bathtub.

More accurately: I believed we had a crack in the bathtub. I could see and feel a thin jagged ridge around the inside back end of the tub, outlined by a pale orange soap build-up that I couldn't remove with regular washing.

Recognizing the potential for serious water damage, we stopped using the tub (not to worry about personal hygiene: we switched to the upstairs tub) and began a search for someone who repairs bathtubs.

In the meantime, the manager of a handyperson company came to power wash our house, and I asked her to take a look at the tub. She leaned into the tub and studied the crack. "I don't think you have a crack," she said, and began to scrub. She's a strong scrubber (all that handyperson muscle) and voilà, no more crack. There never was a crack, just a spot where water settles due to an oddity in the configuration of the tub.

Darcy was kind. She never hinted at what she must have been thinking, i.e., "You are one stupid customer." For two weeks, we had avoided using that bathtub because of a dangerous, water-leaking, floor-destroying crack that wasn't there.

She explained that, with a real crack, if you pressed down on one side, you'd see a little cliff (or something like that). "But," she added reassuringly, "call me if you fall through the tub into the basement."

I felt a little stupid, but without apology. I've accepted the fact that I will never know everything a person should know to successfully manage a house.

For instance, shortly after we moved into this particular house, we were awakened one night by a clamorous alarm of some sort. In the cellar we discovered the switch that turned it off . The housing inspector had told us what that switch was for. Neither of us could remember. Turns out, it was the septic system alarm. Further turns out, there was nothing wrong with the septic system, only something wrong with the alarm. How could we know that sometimes an alarm is not cause for alarm?

On the other hand - also after we moved into this particular house - we frequently heard a "Boom!" a sudden explosion like a sonic boom. We didn't realize it was coming from inside the house. Then the oil burner quit. A service man explained that the "sonic booms" were the sound of the furnace misfiring. We'd never heard such a thing. How would we know that sometimes we should be alarmed when there is no alarm?

We replaced a beat-up porcelain sink with a new stainless steel one (again, in this particular house). The stainless steel seemed to take on many little scratches in a very short time, and we asked the plumber to take a look. I explained, "When we turn the light on over the sink, we can see all these scratches." His advice: "Don't turn the light on over the sink."

The lady at the sink company explained that stainless steel sinks acquire a patina" over time. "Patina" apparently refers to so many little scratches that you can't distinguish any particular scratch from any other particular scratch. The sink lady was not alarmed.

Running a house is a lot like living a life. We're all sojourners in a complex and confusing world. We have no idea what we'll need to know until we need to know it. I guess the most important thing is: Don't panic. Unless, of course, you are very, very alarmed.

Contact janice@janice-lindsay. com.