Little things can mean a lot

I try to be the most consistent handyman I can be. I also try to be the most consistent blogger I can be. In both, I often try to take on more than I can realistically handle, which leads to mixed results at best.

On the handyman front, those larger projects have been my downfall. So I'm going back to basics and focusing on the small things. Yes, major projects have major impacts, but often, the smaller things can have an equal - or greater - impact.

My new philosophy - which I've been able to stick with for THREE consecutive weekends - is to finish one project each weekend. To date, I've re-fixed the power-flush toilet (which we've decided to pull the plug on, but I'll save that for another day), patched the plethora of nail and screw holes that dot our walls and bolt three bookcases (which were made obsolete by our built-ins) to various wall. All small things that make a small impact.

The project I'm most proud of, however, is re-purposing one of those bookcases into a closet of sorts for my daughter's bedroom. If you've never tried to alter a manufactured bookcase, then you'd probably assume it's easy. While it wasn't a terribly major undertaking, it was a lot more involved than I envisioned.

I am not a furniture maker, nor do I have any knowledge of how furniture is made, so the first thing I had to do was remove the trim from the face of the bookcase to see what I was up against. Starting at the top, from the inside of the shelving unit I tapped the trim until there was a space wide enough to insert a long flat-head screwdriver (a pry bar would have been helpful). Once the trim was off, I saw that the shelves were not only nailed into the frame from the outside, but they were also set in notches in the frame. So much for just pounding away until the shelves either broke or came loose.

Using a nail set, I sunk those outer nails through the frame and into the edges of the shelves. I then removed the staples from the two thin pieces of plywood(?) that make up the back of each shelf and took them off, opening the back of the top two shelves. I then used my hammer to remove the top of the frame. Believe me, this was a great way to work out my frustration with the Patriots, who were in the process of getting shellacked by the Browns.

Once I'd removed the top, I could push the sides of the frame far enough apart to lift out the shelves and reassemble the frame using finish nails. The plywood backing didn't survive removal very well, so the upper half of the unit has no back (which is fine, since we'd painted the interior of the shelves the same gray as our walls). The bare wood of the notches where the two shelves had sat will need to be painted, but for now, I'm ok with them being bare. The various nail holes also need to be filled, but as with the paint, I'm ok with that.

I learned my biggest lesson from re-setting the trim (using the old nails that were still in place). I don't own a rubber mallet, and being the expert hammer-wielder I am, I hit it too hard dinged the trim pretty good in one place. Oh well. That's what wood putty was invented for, right? Luckily, that was the first nail, so for the remainder, I placed a block of 2x4 between the trim and my hammer.

Once I had the unit reassembled, hanging the closet rod was a piece of cake. Ditto for bolting the unit to the wall. Thanks to having a 2-year-old, that's something I could almost do with my eyes closed.

Even before the clothes were hung and toys placed on the bottom shelves, I was damn proud of my work. So was Mrs. Handyman, which made me happy. But the happiest moment was my daughter's reaction upon seeing her new "closet" for the first time: "Oh, that's wonderful."

Because I enjoy it, any opportunity to flex my handyman muscles is a reward in itself. But reactions like that make my work that much more special.

(A note about the photo. At right, you can see one of the salvaged school doors I installed on industrial sliders to use as bedroom doors. Right next to the bookcase is the owl my wife and I made out of paper glued to a canvas for our daughter's first Christmas in 2008. It serves double duty by covering the thermostat.)

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If you're planning to do something similar, here are some tips based on my experience.

1. Depending on the size of the bookcase, number of shelves to be removed and your level of experience, plan on this taking about an hour.
2. As with any project, figure out what tools and hardware (nails, screws, etc.) you'll need and have them on hand before starting. Once you start, you don't want to be scrambling around (or running to the hardware store). Remember, it's better to have too much than not enough

Tools you'll need:

• Nail set
• Hammer
• Finish nails
• Rubber mallet (or scrap of 2x4)
• Pry bar (or long flat-head screwdriver)
• Adjustable closet rod
• Screwdriver (for installing closet rod)
• Level (for installing closet rod)
• Screwdriver (or power screwdriver/drill with screwdriver bit)
• Wood screws
• Toggle bolts and/or mounting brackets (In case you can't bolt the unit to a stud)

Disposal dilemma part 3: the conclusion

In the last episode, we left off at the point when I picked up my new KitchenAid disposal. If you need to catch up, read part 1 and part 2.

When I woke up Saturday morning, I couldn't wait to get the old disposal out and the new disposal in. I'd pored over the instructions the night before and gathered the necessary tools so I'd be ready to go when Mrs. Handyman and our daughter left for mommy & me dance class and to meet up with a friend.

First up: getting that useless InSinkErator out. While the instructions that came with the new disposal were helpful, this video from This Old House made my life much, MUCH easier. (It didn't hurt - nor do I believe it was a coincidence - that they were replacing an InSinkErator with a KitchenAid.)

Removal was pretty straightforward, with one exception. Why is it that one stubborn bolt always seems to derail a project? And why is it that I always fight with it for too long before coming up with a perfect solution? In this case, it was one of the bolts (located in the rear, naturally) that connects the disposal's drainpipe (the black pipe on the far left in the above photo) to the main drainpipe (white pipe above). The solution: get out a hacksaw and cut through the plastic pipe. I could have saved myself at least 15-20 minutes of fighting while crammed into the small space under the sink.

Another thing worth noting is that when I removed the metal access door at the bottom of the InSinkErator to disconnect the electrical wires, I found that compartment almost completely full of water. It's a miracle that thing never shorted out - or worse.

The installation wasn't quite as easy as installing a switchplate, but it was pretty easy. Once all the pieces and bolts were in place, lo and behold, it actually worked. And it's much more pleasing to see "KitchenAid" stamped on the sink drain than it was looking at "InSinkErator."

Here are the lessons I learned, which are helpful for much more than installing or replacing a disposal:

• When something goes on the fritz, deal with it immediately. Don't wait for bad things to happen (see "electrical compartment filled with water" above).
• By "deal with it," I don't mean rig a temporary solution. I mean fix it properly. If you do have to find a temporary solution (i.e. bucket), don't let it become your permanent fix.
• Read the directions, if only to determine which tools you'll need. It's no fun to stop mid-project to hunt for a bigger wrench. Or have to run to the hardware store for supplies you don't have on hand. Luckily, I didn't have to do that - this time.
• Search online for a video that shows the process. Words are good, but pictures (especially moving pictures) are better. Much better. This Old House and eHow are excellent resources.
• When you hit a snag (such as an impossibly stuck bolt), step back for a minute or two and look for another solution besides what the instructions or video say to do.
• When working in tight, cramped spaces, get out of that space at regular intervals. Otherwise, you're going to pay for it the next morning.
• Last but certainly not least: If you own an InSinkErator, check it regularly for leaks. You've been warned.

Most of what you need is included with the disposal. Here's a handy list of the necessary tools you'll want to gather before diving in. You may not need all of them, but it's good to have them on hand just in case. Keep in mind that these are the tools for replacing a disposal. If you're installing one from scratch, you're on your own.

• Phillips and flat-head screwdrivers (preferably with short handles)
• Adjustable wrench
• Ratchet and sockets
• Pipe wrench or large vise grips
• Plumber's putty
• Wire nuts (2)
• Hacksaw (optional)

Disposal dilemma part 2: the solution

Note: If you missed part 1, you you can catch up here.

My first stop was to research the problem of a near-constant leak from the bottom of our InSinkErator disposal (which was exacerbated by running the dishwasher). Turns out it's pretty common and apparently happens to other models. Not surprisingly, I found nothing about the problem on the company's website. But I did find the name and number for the only authorized service rep in Maine, so I gave him a call.

Entertaining as it was, I'll paraphrase our conversation: Yes, it's a common problem. He could come look at it the following week, but the cost of the visit alone (forget any necessary parts) would most likely be more expensive than a new disposal. Is that hard, I asked. "Can you swap out a switchplate?" (I can). I thanked him and hung up.

I found a well-reviewed KitchenAid from Lowes, but it wasn't available in any nearby stores. No problem. The bucket could stay in place a little longer, so I ordered it and had it shipped to my local store. Delivery was a little delayed, so it arrived last Friday. I was so excited I planned my entire Saturday morning around installing it.

I'd done my homework and found that while installing a disposal isn't quite as easy as swapping out a switchplate, it's not much more difficult.

Even though it wasn't challenging skills-wise, the installation is best told as a standalone story - which I've told in Part 3: the resolution.

Disposal dilemma part 1: the problem

Welcome to the latest chapter in what's becoming a continuing saga of appliances, fixtures, etc. outliving their usefulness in our home. This episode is sponsored by the InSinkErator Badger 1/3 HP disposal that's lived under our kitchen sink for nearly six years.

When I replaced our kitchen faucet in March of this year, I noticed a small amount of standing water on the bottom of the cabinet under the sink. I cleaned it up and made it a priority to find out where said water was coming from. It didn't take long (one running of the dishwasher) to locate the slow leak at the base of the disposal. I placed a small tin flowerpot underneath and again monitored the situation.

Over the next few weeks, there was only a small amount of water in the pot, so I continued to monitor. Eventually, water stopped showing up, so I decided it had been a fluke, perhaps linked to the problem of the dishwasher overflowing (which we'd had repaired). I left the flowerpot in place - just in case - and lined the bottom of the cabinet with some old plastic placemats.

Fast forward to September. We were gathering cleaning supplies for the woman we hired to give our place a good top-to-bottom cleaning every two weeks when my wife noticed some dampness on the bottom of the cabinet. No biggie, I thought, the pot must have gotten pushed out of the way of a small leak.

I saw just how wrong that assumption was when I went to sop up the water. The placemats were practically floating on a bed of standing water, and their undersides were covered in an oozy slime. The veneer on the cabinet's lower shelf had almost completely peeled off. Once I got the mess cleaned up, tossed the placemats and dealt with the wrath of Mrs. Handyman (who rightly said I should have dealt with the problem in the first place), I placed a larger bucket under the disposal. Before calling someone, I needed to be absolutely sure it wasn't a pipe that was leaking.

It wasn't. That first night, after running the dishwasher, there was at least an inch of water in the bucket.

Next up: Part 2: the solution (which wasn't what you might think.)

To DIY or not to DIY ...

I'm making my guest-blogging debut at Building Moxie today with a post about the necessary evil of hiring out your home improvement and the potential perils of doing so. It's a personal story, and the names have been changed to protect everyone - the innocent and the guilty.

Click here to give it a read. Some of it may hit too close to home, but hey, that's the nature of home improvement.

While you're there, bookmark Building Moxie. JB and his team do a bang-up job over there, and I'm proud to have been asked to contribute.

Taming a wild belt sander (video)

Wow, I've been gone a long time. Now that my professional commitments have settled out, I'm back in full force (at least for now).

For my first post-hiatus post, I thought I'd share with you this video, which came to my inbox yesterday courtesy of the Handyman Club of America. I've just been filing their newsletters (and a lot of other things) for future reference, but when I saw the subject line (Video: If a Keystone Cop Touched a Belt Sander), I couldn't resist.

Sadistically set to the "William Tell Overture," the video carries the disclaimer "Warning: violence! Pain!" for good reason. There's no blood, but a LOT of potential for lasting damage - both to the floor and to the guy using the sander.

After you watch for yourself, you'll see why I don't feel bad for the guy (nor do I feel bad about not feeling bad). He asked for everything he got. Enjoy.

Eyes and ears and mouth and nose...

I have a confession to make. I don't use protection. For my eyes, ears, mouth or nose, that is.

Sure, I'm a bright guy. I know it's important to use protective gear when using tools. But as I learned from G.I. Joe, "Knowing is half the battle." However, knowing and doing are two different things.

Actually, when I sand drywall, I do wear goggles and a mask over my mouth and nose. That wasn't always the case. I had to inhale a lungful of dust before breaking down and buying my goggles and mask. As for ear protection, do my iPhone ear buds count?

To be honest, I'm not sure why I eschew protective gear. I'm not really a risk-taker. I suppose if I had to pin my attitude on one thing, it would be that it's inconvenient. Then again, hearing loss, blindness and/or black lung would be worse. So far, it's worked out for me, but how long until my luck runs out?

So let me pose the question to you: Do you use protective gear? Why or not?

As for me, I'll try to do better, but I can't make any promises. Maybe when I find myself in the "What did he say?" boat, I'll change my tune.