How I learned my home’s secrets
‘Phantom flush’ was among the mysteries to solve for this millennial homeowner
When my hallway light started turning on and off, and a toilet tank would randomly empty and refill, I was sure it was one of two things.
My new house was haunted. Or I had big repair problems.
Leaning to the latter, I was convinced I’d have to hire an electrician to check kilometres of wiring to see what made the light flicker.
As for the toilet, I had already changed a fill valve assembly and tank lever, with help from the full set of tools the previous owners had kindly left. So what else could it be, except a major problem with my main drain? My thoughts raced ahead to having my front lawn excavated and the whole drain system replaced.
It was just five months after me — a millennial — and my baby boomer mom bought our two-unit shared home in Hamilton.
And if I hadn’t been missing my $610 all-inclusive Bloor West apartment, I was now.
It was all but a certainty that I’d soon be house poor.
I was already in deep with some big home upgrades. My furnace was in the middle of an oil-to-natural gas conversion and half of my windows were about to be replaced.
So, the new discoveries struck me as an expectation I’d be paying for something
else — and discover more components of my home I didn’t know existed.
I had learned so much already. The first lesson was that any project or fix will come with a surprise. Sometimes it’s not unpleasant.
For instance, I expected the cost and effort of a gas line installation, as part of the replacement of my oil furnace, would be beyond my means. But when I investigated, I found there is no cost from the gas company to bring a line in and disruption to the property (to drive a line underground to meet a meter installed on my home) is minimal. Even the furnace, at retail cost, would be half the price I expected and significantly less costly to run. My oil service was $230 per month; gas would be an estimated $120.
All I had to do was find a heating contractor, ideally one listed by the Technical Standards and Safety Authority, and pay for a new furnace installation. It was going to be easy.
Then came my next lesson: there are limits when things seem simple.
The challenges began once I set up three appointments for estimates on a new gas furnace. I was bombarded with information and choices for things I’d never heard of. I was quoted costs ranging from $6,000 to $18,000 for a run-ofthe-mill furnace. “Basic” considerations were the level of airflow needed, as measured in cubic feet per minute (CFM), and the best BTU (the unit that measures heat output) required.
“Surely you know what you need?” the salesperson asked after his pitch. “Now, let me also explain our modulating technology and variable-speed draft blowers.”
My head started spinning faster than that draft blower.
More options followed. Would I want a humidifier? A UV light purifier system? Why not a new air conditioner while we’re at it? I opted out.
But I did agree to a new gas-fired, hotwater tank, since mine was electric and 28 years old. That, too, came with options, particularly the prospect of a tankless hot water heater that would take up less than half the space, have endless hot water and conserve energy. All good. The bad? The cost was about $3,000 more than a tank with heater. No tankless heater for me.
I was relieved when an extended family member, a contractor specializing in heating, took on the job. With trust comes security in your choices. Over a three-month period, the new furnace and water tank were installed, the old oil tank was drained and removed, piping was redirected, the gas line was installed with a meter, and a safety inspection was completed. Altogether, the cost was around $7,000. The process of deciding on new windows, and their installation, came with the same information overload.
The first appointment lasted three hours and schooled me on window types (awning, bay and bow, casement, gliding, pass-through), grille options (spacing between glass panes), and the differences in vinyl (energy efficient, but can warp) versus aluminum (durable, but can corrode) frames.
Learning the glass options was like a physics class. Treatments on glass improve not just clarity but also the “solar heat gain coefficient” and “visible light transmittance.”
I had once scoffed at a friend who hedged on choosing Terratone or Serengeti Sand for paint colours. Now I had my own choices: did I want Acorn or Cinnamon Toast for my exterior window frame colour?
I wasn’t sure what to pick but I did see red when I saw the estimated bill from the company who provided my first quote — $38,000, with a discount, for 10 windows.
I eventually went with another company, a local, family-run operation with exceptional service, at a cost of $9,000 for five windows, including a picture window with casement treated with UV protection and a frame painted Cocoa Bean.
The installation was done in one day. The majority of my effort was writing the cheque.
After the furnace and windows were done, I took on the hallway light and toilet mysteries.
The fix for the flickering light was simple. A switch needed replacing. I splurged on a wireless model with a remote and installed it myself. It cost $69.
And the emptying toilet tank? YouTube schooled me on what I needed to know. It was called “phantom flush” and happens when the bottom toilet flapper is compromised, allowing a slow drain of the tank. I needed a new seal — and it cost $3.99.