Urban in Suburban

...These were the words of wisdom from our home inspector when we first bought our home.  It seemed reasonable. 

House = Wood

Wood + Water = Rotting wood

Rotting wood + the weight of all of our crap = Collapsed house

On Saturday night I couldn't help but notice the sound of running water.  We had done a couple loads of laundry and ran the dishwasher, so it didn't surprise me that the sound was coming from our water heater as it refilled.

5 hours later, it was still "refilling".

Upon closer examination, I realized that the water heater was full and was now filling the crawlspace with a slow but significant trickle of boiling hot water from what I later learned is called the "Temperature and Pressure Relief Valve".  I now had a small pool of this hot water on the dirt below my house.

House + Water = Panic

This valve, as described by my book about household plumbing, is intended to "relieve the water heater of abnormal pressure.  If the valve isn't functioning properly, the water heater could explode, resulting in great bodily injury, death and/or major property damage."   Great...

As it was midnight and I was tired, I opted to turn off the water heater and go to bed.

The following morning, after what is now becoming a weekend routine journey through our crawlspace, I concluded that the valve was more or less functioning the way it should.  I also learned that in old houses, the thing is supposed to just drain into the dirt below your house (only in more modern homes does the code require it drains off property).

"Functioning properly" or not, I see a date with a plumber in my future.

I've been "renting" my whole life.

I rented a bedroom in my parents' house for free for 18 years.  I moved to Santa Barbara to attend college and rented 7 different places in a 5 year period from various people.  I even rented a couch for a summer which cost me nothing!  Then I moved to San Francisco and rented various other places over a 5-year period, including a room on an island in the middle of the Bay made of landfill (Treasure Island).

Having spent the last 28 years renting various apartments in mostly urban areas, I am very accustomed to zero-responsibility living, with the exception of making sure I didn't a) burn the place down; or b) lose my keys. 

In June of 2008, my wife, Irina, and I bought a house in Walnut Creek and began a life as first-time homeowners.  A little info about the house:

- Built in 1957 (yes, that's a 5)
- 75% vintage
- It backs up to major open space
- It has a zillion plants and mature trees

It looked really nice on the flyer, and we got a good deal.  So now I'm an urban renter slowly making the transition to a suburban "man of the house."

Let the games begin...