Learn your house’s normal

“Merry Christmas!” said the pipe under my sink. “I’m all rusty and don’t feel like holding water in anymore. Were you planning to clean the kitchen floor on Christmas Day?”

Pipe under my kitchen sink clearly showing some rust.

So, yeah, that happened. I had just finished washing dishes after making eggnog pancakes and a side of bacon for Christmas morning when I realized I could still hear water running, other than the cats’ water fountain in the room. I doublechecked that I hadn’t somehow started the dishwasher, then opened the cabinet doors to look under the sink. That resulted in water spurting at a diagonal across the room while I scrambled to pull things out from under the sink – in addition to obvious thinks like the dishwasher soap (which really shouldn’t get wet until you’re ready to use it!), our collection of Ziploc bags in their now-slightly soggy boxes were under there.

Then I tried turning every valve I found under the sink, hoping one of them would actually affect the water pressure. No luck. I wrapped a rag around the leak, preventing it from leaving the cabinet at least, and looked behind the pipe, just in case. I vaguely remembered one of the workers over the summer – I think the one who replaced our water softener – showing me the water shut-off for the entire house. That worked… except I didn’t realize it because there was still water in the pipes that needed to be drained. It took a couple emergency runs from family members before I realized the draining part. The photo above was taken at a point when the water was off and drained. The actual fix took a professional about 30 minutes the next day.

But “my pipe rusted through and leaked” isn’t the title of this post. I noticed the problem as soon as it started because I know what the normal house sounds are. Right now, I can hear the cats’ fountain, the hum from the vents, and the sounds of the furnace running in the garage (it’s just through the wall I’m facing). Two weeks ago, when a light switch broke, I knew that switching off the breaker that affected part of that switch (it’s a weird kitchen & garage switch) would turn off all of the kitchen lights, even though the kitchen is on two different breakers and some of the lights are on the other side of the room. That’s part of our house’s “normal.”

It’s similar to identifying a problem with your car because it doesn’t sound or feel right… normal is what you’re used to, and it can help you identify problems before they become worse. Particularly with a house, it will take a bit of time to identify what counts as normal, but it’s worth learning. If I hadn’t noticed the problem as soon as it happened, I would have been dealing with a lot more water where it didn’t belong. For those times when something isn’t normal, it’s useful to have information handy for companies that handle plumbing, appliance, and electrical problems, and a general handyman, so you’re ready for any issue that arises.

Enjoyable Advent Calendars

An enjoyable aspect as we approach Christmas – whether you celebrate the holiday or not – is the proliferation of Advent Calendars that are available. Over the years, we’ve had pop-up penguins from Lovepop, a homemade musical calendar, and somewhere (in the attic?) we have a Santa that gradually drops down the chimney as the month progresses. There are multiple Lego Advent Calendars available, catering to a variety of fandoms, including the Marvel one in our living room. There’s the fun of a daily surprise that comes with the commercial Advent Calendars, knowing the theme with the thrill of each day being a little different. If you want to see some great reactions to daily surprises, check out this Instagram account; he’s opening three calendars every day.

Several years ago, I learned of the existence of a “whiskey Advent calendar.” But there was a catch… it was available from a shop in the United Kingdom, and the shipping to the United States was half again the price of the calendar. (If I remember right, the calendar was $200 and shipping $100.) I wrote it off as beyond what I wanted to spend. A fabulous co-worker made me a whiskey basket that year with a sipping glass and a handful of whiskey miniatures curated from a personal collection. Marinda and I discussed the possibility of purchasing a large number of mini-bottles and creating our own whiskey Advent calendar for our local whiskey-loving friends. But life happened, and we never got around to it.

A couple years ago, I learned that Flaviar.com had launched a Whiskey Advent Calendar within the United States. I hesitated initially – I think my timing was bad the first year, discovering it existed a little too late. Last year, I asked my mother to buy it for me, and due to the supply chain issues, it arrived a few days into December (they were quite apologetic about that), and it took me until February to finish it.

This year, Flaviar shipped the calendar super early – I think I received mine in October – and I’ve been making an effort to open each day in December and try my new whiskey. To keep myself on track, I’ve been posting to TikTok each day as I try them. And delightfully, most of the included whiskeys are new to me. Like Pokémon, I know I can’t catch (or try) every one out there, but I can certainly put in a good effort.

Washing dishes

Washing dishes is a chore many of us bemoan, while also taking for granted our access to a dishwasher. That’s all fine and dandy until your dishwasher decides to extend its services to cleaning the floor by leaking out the bottom. It is, of course, possible to wash all dishes by hand, but then I’d just have wasted space under the counter where the dishwasher is supposed to be. And to be honest, there are days when that extra energy needs to be expended elsewhere. (We never leave dishes sitting, as the cats would insist on helping us with the cleaning process.)

The open dishwasher with the top two racks (there's a silverware rack!) partially pulled out, with Arwen, a white and black cat, looking in.

The most important thing about replacing an appliance is making sure you match – or at least, don’t exceed – the dimensions where it needs to go. It took me a little while of looking through the dishwasher listings to realize that a listing for 24 inches wide is apparently referencing the door width; the inset part (which is what I measured first) is of necessity slightly smaller than that. That realization made shopping so much easier, I was trying to figure out why ours was a non-standard size.

You may recall that last year, we had to replace the refrigerator (for similar reasons: that freezer leaked onto the floor). When selecting a new dishwasher, I decided it would make sense to match the brand and color, as they’re placed opposite to each other in the kitchen. Like with the fridge, I opted to put my Costco membership to good use, knowing they offer high quality products with reliable delivery and haul-away of the old appliances. And without the supply chain issues that frustrated the country last year, the delivery was about a week after I placed the order.

And now you’re on a jury.

As the prosecution reminded – and verified – with each potential juror during the panel process, this isn’t like the media portrays a trial. To be fair, the jury part may be – that’s not usually the focus – but the trial I sat through as a juror was devoid of the theatrics you expect to see on screen.

As each group of four was empaneled, they were sent to the jury deliberation room, and given a notebook and pen for use during the trial. (All notes are disposed of afterwards.) I was near the end of the selection process, so only sat for a short while in the deliberation room while the two alternates were selected. Except for during deliberation, the time in the deliberation room was mostly sit and wait, wondering when we’d be summoned back to the courtroom.

The trial process started as soon as the entire jury was selected, with the bailiff instructing us on the process: we lined up in a particular order based on when in the process we were selected, written on the white board for the first couple days; the bailiff asked everyone to stand while the jury entered; the back row of the jury box entered first and everyone remained standing until the bailiff announced that everyone could sit down. (Amusingly, he consistently made that announcement when the front row alternate had just set foot in the jury box; she usually wasn’t in front of her chair yet.)

Before the trial started and at the end of each day, the judge told the jury not to seek out any information relating to this trial online or in the news. Each morning, he verified that none of us had deliberately or accidentally been exposed to related information. This is an important point in each trial, as the jury’s decision is based only on the evidence presented by the prosecution and defense.

The prosecution and then the defense presented their opening statements to the jury, then rolled right into calling the prosecution’s witnesses. It’s important to note that the opening and closing statements do not constitute evidence; these are the prosecution and defense attorneys’ summaries and opinions. I think this is one of the key spots that media highlights in on screen trials, for the impassioned presentation, even though it’s less important that the witness testimony.

At the end of each day, the judge stopped the questioning and released everyone with a specific time to return the next morning. In the deliberation room, the bailiff then clarified that we should arrive 30 minutes prior to that, gathering in the jury room so we could come upstairs, set our personal belongings in the deliberation room, and reclaim our notepads (they never leave the building). We were escorted outside by an officer to avoid any accidental interactions with the defendant, witnesses, or the attorneys.

When we arrived on the second day, we were given a sheet to submit our lunch order; lunches would be served in the jury (as opposed to the deliberation) room each day unless we were deliberating at lunch time. For our trial, the prosecution witnesses were called on the second day, with the defense attorney cross-examining each one as needed, and the prosecution asking follow-up questions. The defense witnesses were called on the morning of the third day, reversing the process with the prosecution cross-examining. That afternoon, rebuttal witnesses were called and questioned, again with the prosecution calling their witnesses first.

On the fourth and final days, the jury walked into a full courtroom – all of the witnesses were now allowed in the audience – and heard the closing statements. We first listened to one of the prosecuting attorneys, who walked through the jury instructions, spelling out each charge and emphasizing which part of the testimony supported that charge. The defense attorney presented his closing statement, followed by a rebuttal closing statement from the other prosecuting attorney. After additional instructions from the judge (among other things, reminding us that opening and closing statements were opinion rather than evidence) and the swearing in of our bailiff, we adjourned to the deliberation room and began discussing the details – the first time we were allowed to talk about it to anyone, even among the jury – while waiting for our lunch. Our first order of business was to turn in all of our devices – our phones were allowed in the deliberation room during breaks, but not during the actual deliberation process. Then we needed to select a foreperson, who got to sort through the jury instructions and organize our deliberation process.

One interesting aspect of the jury process is that the jury is presented with two sheets of paper for each charge: one that specifies “guilty” and one “not guilty”. It’s fancier than that, of course, something like “We the jury find the defendant guilty/not guilty of [insert charge here]”, with a specific line for the foreperson to sign and lines for the other eleven jurors’ signatures.

We did not rush our process. Using the whiteboard and some paper taped to the wall (it was a small whiteboard), we summarized overall impressions of each witness and their reliability before we ever discussed the charges. We started with anonymous voting on sets of charges (there were appropriate groupings that made sense) – a guilty/not guilty vote written on a piece of paper, then read out all together to see if there were any differing opinions. We discussed the differing opinions at length, clarifying questions from our notes, then ended up tabling the issue and coming back to that particular set of charges near the end. After the first discussion, we found we were all willing to voice our opinions in that particular group and dispensed with the slower anonymous method. Each juror signed each appropriate verdict sheet for every charges as we reached a consensus on them.

Eventually we reached a consensus on all of the charges and summoned the bailiff by turning the button near the door. The bailiff then notified the judge, who summoned everyone back to the courtroom before admitting the jury. The foreperson carried the envelope with the signed and unsigned sheets with the charges. When requested by the judge, the foreperson handed that envelope to the bailiff, who passed it to the judge. The judge reviewed the sheets, did some rearranging, then handed them to the clerk to read each signed verdict sheet out loud. After all of the sheets were read, at the defense attorney’s request, the jury was polled – calling out each juror number – to confirm that we each agreed with the reported verdict.

And then we were done. The bailiff escorted the jury back to the deliberation room, we piled any pages that had been used in the notepads for their destruction, and waited while our electronic devices were retrieved. We were again escorted outside by an officer, released from further jury duty obligations for at least a year.