Showing posts with label electrical work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label electrical work. Show all posts

Saturday, June 27, 2009

I Blink Therefore I Am.



I’m fully electrified again. The generosity and sheer goodwill of people can be astonishing.

Joe, (and his son) who had done the catastrophic work on the electricals for the garage, found a retired electrical inspector in the village (I knew this man but didn’t know of his prior profession) who came over at 10 in the morning and finished off the job at 8 o’clock that night.

It was an awful ‘tangle’, he said to me, one of the worst he’d seen. It would’ve been better if he had rewired everything from scratch as it would have been a nice short day for everyone but where you’re ‘untangling’ it takes forever, each switch, each light, each circuit. He had the patience of Job. A solid man of few words, very upset at what had been ‘done’ to me. I assured him the fellows had the best of intentions, they really thought they knew what they were doing.

At the end of all this I asked him how much I owed him, him being a master electrician ‘n all. He hemmed and hawed, said he’d hate to charge me too much would $20 an hour be OK? OMG. I can’t even imagine what this would have cost in Toronto. I paid him the money, asking him was he really sure? He looked relieved. He said he was afraid it might to be too much.

I tested all the new lights and plugs, I didn’t need to, but he was like the proud father of a newborn. Everything worked beautifully.

Then to top all this off, Joe shows up today wanting to refund ‘all’ the money I paid him or at least paying me back the money I had paid the electrician. I said of course not. He had not wilfully ‘bad-wired’ me and the rest of his work had been superb. He looked as if he could cry.

He’s back next week to build me a ramp for the garage.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Life

Life’s like that, isn’t it though?

A day can be a mix of good, not so good, and sometimes awful.

It is hard to be away from Toronto and have two good friends in not very good shape in hospital. Phonecalls and emails only fill you in on so much of it. Thoughts of them underline my day, every hour a stray thought. How are they? Is he out of the coma?

I’ve been having long overdue work done. A wooden floor has now been put in an empty shell of a new garage abandoned with abundant promises of return ‘in the fall’ in 2007 by my erstwhile handyman. I’ve also had a professional looking 16’ workbench and shelves for the tools installed in same. And hooks for hangy things. I’ve already started an empty tin collection for nails and screws. I’m a great one for the gear around the stuff. Though I must say I’m looking forward to fixing up some chairs and refinishing furniture in my very own workshed. And oh yes, Strawbella is looking forward to her new HQ.

I’d not found another handyman, you see, finding a new anything in this little outport is very difficult, due to village politics and people being related and that kind of thing. I couldn’t offend prior handyman even if he hadn’t shown up for 2 years. Joe, my new one, is a brother of Leo, my factotum. And the matter was handled very delicately indeed, my being privy to such ways on a small island off the coast of Ireland in the summers of my childhood and having a full drenching in village-speak. I should give lessons.

Electrifying said garage has been another story. Ditches were dug for the tubing, lines were strung, and hookups were connected to my impressive looking electrical panel in the house (completed 2 years ago with circuit breakers and ‘enough power to light up the village’ per installer). The panel box reacted most unfavourably to this assault and tripped breakers, shorting out my stereo speakers permanently it looks like. I’m fair lost without my music and my CBC, I am.

An SOS went out for an electrician to sort out the mess. Electricians are very thin on the ground in this neck of the woods. The fellow who replaced my antique system two years ago was only in town briefly on vacation and is now back at his millionaire job in the Yukon. Another local is adverse to any extra work as he likes to spend his day job earnings at night on on-line poker. Another is on the town council and doesn’t want his handiwork exhibited locally because of insurance (?!).

You see the disadvantages of living in a very small community?

But I have faith. I do. Really.

I only have to look at the wee farm out back (I’ve got potatoes, I’ve got onions, I’ve got collards, yeah collards!!!) and then over my shoulder at the ocean and thank Gaia for creating such a paradise and for plopping me in the middle of it.