Another night, another sheet of drywall.

My father-in-law made a comment once about how I must "love to do drywall." It was his way of complimenting me on how well I hang the material, and it's true I do a fair job of it, but it's not because I love it. It's because I've had a lot of unwilling practice.

The entire house was drywalled in 3/8" - the standard now is 1/2". You would be justified in asking, "But Bill...that's only an 1/8" difference. Why does it matter?" The answer is simple, if you've experienced it. That extra 1/8" makes the wall feel much more substantial - it doesn't give when you lean on it, and it deadens the sounds from outside a little more effectively.

No matter whatever else it has going for it, it's also cheaper. You can still buy 3/8", and I have for patching interior walls once or twice, but the demand isn't as high any more.

Tonight's work took a lot longer than I anticipated it might because of the electrical switches by the front door that control the yard lights, porch light, and room lights. The yard lights were installed long after the other two with the switch in an electrical box all by itself. Now, consolidated, all three switches are in one box, and it looks much neater.

I am afraid of drowning. Indeed, I have written about it in this very journal. I have an even greater fear of fire in this old house, and working on the wiring scares me to death. The old wiring is all paper and fibre insulated , and flakes and crumbles as you work it. Once of the reasons I'm staying up as late as I am is to assure myself that there's no smoke creeping out from behind the switch plate, no warmth in the walls.

To date, I have never mis-wired anything. I've no reason to think I did tonight. I'm just paranoid about it.

I have often complained that this house is underbuilt. The floors are bouncy, the ceiling (floor in the attic) won't support the weight of an adult male more than three feet from the center line. Not the wiring I worked on tonight. Damn, that was a lot of work.

A quick primer on home electricity: Nomally, on any circuit that supports nothing but lightbulbs, you'd wire with 14ga. It's lightweight, easy to work with, and supports up to 15amps. That's 30, 60watt bulbs, or 120 15watt CFLs.

For kitchen circuits, where you have things with heating elements like toaster ovens and spouses, you'd use 12ga. It supports up to 20amps. It's heavier, stiffer, much harder to work with. (I don't use it very often, although when I build my dream house there won't be a circuit anywhere in it less than 20amps, but that's another story.)

Where this work sucks, no matter what gauge wire you're using, is when you're in the cramped quarters of a switch box. Fingers in a space only 4" x 4" x 3" can find no leverage.

The three switches I reboxed tonight, controlling at most two lightbulbs each, were wired in 12ga. Casualties on this round? Ohhhh, you bet.

To sum up: Another 4' down, about 11 feet to go. The room is swept, tools put away, curtains rehung.

Casualties: both hands are beat to shit, for which the strict medical term is "abraded." Numerous small cuts from the wires, scrapes from the drywall and box edges.

My right foot is also numb, but that's from having a small dog asleep in my lap for the last forty-five minutes and is unrelated to the evening's work.

 

Another night, another sheet of drywall.

My father-in-law made a comment once about how I must "love to do drywall." It was his way of complimenting me on how well I hang the material, and it's true I do a fair job of it, but it's not because I love it. It's because I've had a lot of unwilling practice.

The entire house was drywalled in 3/8" - the standard now is 1/2". You would be justified in asking, "But Bill...that's only an 1/8" difference. Why does it matter?" The answer is simple, if you've experienced it. That extra 1/8" makes the wall feel much more substantial - it doesn't give when you lean on it, and it deadens the sounds from outside a little more effectively.

No matter whatever else it has going for it, it's also cheaper. You can still buy 3/8", and I have for patching interior walls once or twice, but the demand isn't as high any more.

Tonight's work took a lot longer than I anticipated it might because of the electrical switches by the front door that control the yard lights, porch light, and room lights. The yard lights were installed long after the other two with the switch in an electrical box all by itself. Now, consolidated, all three switches are in one box, and it looks much neater.

I am afraid of drowning. Indeed, I have written about it in this very journal. I have an even greater fear of fire in this old house, and working on the wiring scares me to death. The old wiring is all paper and fibre insulated , and flakes and crumbles as you work it. Once of the reasons I'm staying up as late as I am is to assure myself that there's no smoke creeping out from behind the switch plate, no warmth in the walls.

To date, I have never mis-wired anything. I've no reason to think I did tonight. I'm just paranoid about it.

I have often complained that this house is underbuilt. The floors are bouncy, the ceiling (floor in the attic) won't support the weight of an adult male more than three feet from the center line. Not the wiring I worked on tonight. Damn, that was a lot of work.

A quick primer on home electricity: Nomally, on any circuit that supports nothing but lightbulbs, you'd wire with 14ga. It's lightweight, easy to work with, and supports up to 15amps. That's 30, 60watt bulbs, or 120 15watt CFLs.

For kitchen circuits, where you have things with heating elements like toaster ovens and spouses, you'd use 12ga. It supports up to 20amps. It's heavier, stiffer, much harder to work with. (I don't use it very often, although when I build my dream house there won't be a circuit anywhere in it less than 20amps, but that's another story.)

Where this work sucks, no matter what gauge wire you're using, is when you're in the cramped quarters of a switch box. Fingers in a space only 4" x 4" x 3" can find no leverage.

The three switches I reboxed tonight, controlling at most two lightbulbs each, were wired in 12ga. Casualties on this round? Ohhhh, you bet.

To sum up: Another 4' down, about 11 feet to go. The room is swept, tools put away, curtains rehung.

Casualties: both hands are beat to shit, for which the strict medical term is "abraded." Numerous small cuts from the wires, scrapes from the drywall and box edges.

My right foot is also numb, but that's from having a small dog asleep in my lap for the last forty-five minutes and is unrelated to the evening's work.