Dethroned! My Ms. Fixit crown has been tarnished

For persons with disability, home ownership has challenges not experienced by the non-disabled (NDA).  I cannot mow my lawns, so I don’t! Being countrified, I let them grow wild. The deer and the rabbits and the foxes, oh my, are often seen roaming around the back yard; it’s always fun to watch the deer as they venture closer to see what the dogs are doing in their pen. Recommended as a fire-prevention protection, I do have the back of the property sheared down once a season. I can’t clear the snow in winter, so I don’t! For many years, Wilson Peacock, a lovely gentleman on my road, has been meeting that need. I really appreciate his kindness to me and my dogs;  he goes above and beyond and clears out their pen, making a little path off the ramp that gets covered with snow. Again, something I cannot easily do but I have done it a time or two. Any and all movement that keeps me uprightly mobile is a good thing, so shoveling a bit of doggie ‘do’ off their porch and pen, though not poetry in motion, is a great spine stretching exercise.

Inside the house, I’m able to accomodate the Ms. Fixit role well enough. I haven’t blown anything up yet, having repaired a few lamps and small appliances over the years — once replacing the hose on a portable dishwasher. I can resurrect a crashed computer with a few tweaks. It paid to listen to Stewart, my friend with knowledge of all things computery! If I was more able, with better balance, I think I could really get into carpentry. We need more trades people.

Recently, on a Sunday, I was unceremoniously dethroned and it was entirely my fault. I was cleaning calcium deposit from under the rim in the toilet bowl — a routine task. I also used a screw driver to scrape down into that space in the bowl where deposits collect - the goal was to correct sluggish flushing. Prior to the scrape down, I poured one cup of soda and one cup of vinegar into the toilet and let it rest for an hour. I should have gone for two! I also poured some vinegar  into the over-flow pipe. I learned that trick years ago. Then, it happened.  I got cocky! I should have left well enough alone and gone with the tried and true and exhibited more patience.

Alas, I over-estimated my abilities. I did a stupid, yes, a stupid thing! I used a hammer and ever so gently tapped down into the hole in the bowl. Gently, gently. As I was tapping, I heard what sounded like something falling into the bowl. That wasn't good. Even I knew that! I stood up. Then I noticed something. Water was leaving the bowl and there was puddling on the floor. Oops. What have I done?

Getting down on my hands and knees is a challenge at the best of times, but I had to investigate again. A big towel took care of the water on the floor and it stayed dry. 

Back to the computer, a scrabble game and online chat with the gang from one of my favourite haunts to share my tale of woe. One guy said “You broke the trap! Turn off the water at once.” Two others chimed in with the same instruction. Check. An internet search found me the one company in Fredericton that was listed as open so I booked an appointment for first thing Monday morning. Morning came so  thought I’d call to confirm. It’s a good thing I did — turns out the guy I spoke with the day had my phone number wrong. As well, they couldn’t fit me in for over a week; that would never do! They referred me to Leachman's Plumbing.

Miracle of miracles, the plumber arrived that afternoon. I’m glad they didn’t laugh when I told them how I was taking care of my bathroom needs since I was dethroned. Mr. Digby, the elder statesdog, supervised plumber Terry from start to finish, following him back and forth as tools of the trade, along with a shop vac, were taken to the bathroom. Then the pièce de résistance — a shiny new ‘throne’ to grace the ‘facilities’ at Chez Rockwell. I should point out that Mr. D never barked once. That is very telling of the character of the guy who replaced the toilet that I broke!

Plumber Terry

Suffice to say, the toilet tale was a learning experience. As to my Ms. Fixit title, I have a bit of work to do to restore my status — perhaps I’ll paint something. No hammer involved.

Carla MacInnis Rockwell is a freelance writer and disability rights advocate living outside Fredericton, NB with her geriatric Australian silky terrier and a rambunctious Maltese. She can be reached via email at  carmacrockwell@xplornet.ca