See those letters on the plywood? A…ESS? The letters you can’t see behind the new black ABS drain line are CC. What does that spell? ACCESS. ACCESS! ACCESS!!!
That’s the plywood panel that provides access to the crawl space under our soon-to-be breakfast nook… or did until Monday, when the plumber came to make connections for the washing machine in the basement, and replumb the kitchen sink. Why he chose to connect the new sink drain line to the washer drain line, rather than using the existing connection to the main drain (visible upper right, above the access panel) is beyond me.
Someone’s got some ’splainin’ to do.
Tags: 6 Comments
6 responses so far ↓
Yeh, Kimberly. ‘Splain to us again how you expected things to be done right the first time without standing there supervising yourself.
when my mom put central heatn’air in her house, she had the ductwork run through the crawlspace under the house. i inherit the house. seveal years later the bedroom wall falls down. when i scream at the termite inspectors, they say they haven’t inspected under the house all those year i paid them to do so because there was no crawlspace. i had to pay somebody else $500 to dig a new one. i just painted over the wall; the window will hold that up, right?
You are going to pitch a fit aren’t you? Make them do it over the right way.
That nice clean piece of plywood is the perfect place to attach the copper lines. Hey, the electrician has already beat me to it. Wonder what that nice lady means by “access”. It don’t say crawl space scuttle hole, so why bother her with a question. I can make it work this way, evn if I have to use a few extra feet of pipe. She will never know the difference.
Right!
Hi, I know this is not related to this post but was looking at the pics of Sasha - what a beautiful cat. What breed is he? They all look so glossy and healthy as well.
“She will never know the difference” is the whole ballgame. Having started my life in an era where men didn’t feel obligated to even pretend to take women seriously in work situations, I often feel the social corrections thus far have been less than a total fix .
Not too long ago, when I had a house, I called a contractor on a shoddy trick (politely mind you, and in a telephone message, so he didn’t have to face me while I told him). The next day, in person, this adult actually said that he “felt like crying” because I “didn’t respect” him. So what? Was I supposed to like, hug him or something? Ew.