Seattle Home Inspector's Blog

     As much as I am into movies, it surprises me a little that I have almost no use for video----at least most of them.  Now I can appreciate a really good video----like one that captures something spectacular----like granny riding her Harley naked into the family swimming pool at the 4^th of July barbeque.  The ones I really hate are the so called “videos” that are nothing more than zooming in and out----and panning back and forth----on the grainy “still” photos of Penelope Cruz in a bikini on some beach.  What is up with that anyway?  Don’t we all want to see the real person frolicking in the sand?  What is the real “motion” in these videos? 

     I know what it is---it is me “clicking away” from the video----that is the motion.

     Now I think that sometimes “educational” videos can be done in this manner----but when I want entertainment----I want the “real” illusion of movement----and in three part harmony.

     Yesterday I posted a little video of a door hitting a light fixture.  I take lots of pictures on an inspection----usually 350 to 450 pictures----occasionally less----sometimes more.  It is pretty much my only note taking tool.  I have found that it is difficult to take a picture of things that “move” and have the picture convey that it is moving.  So in this case a few seconds of video did the trick.  Take a look at this picture of a railing----looks like a nice picture of a railing doesn’t it? 

     Now click on the picture of the railing and you will see what I mean.

     No missing what is going on there. 

     More recently I had another “moving” experience with a gas pipe to a furnace and water heater. 

     As you can see, after clicking on the photo----we have a problem.  Gas piping must be secured very well or the threaded joints can loosen or even break when subjected to the kind of torque generated by something bumping into it or falling against it----especially over time.

     This technique of using a few seconds of video to remind me that something is moving has led to the discovery that later when I am working on the report, and I am looking through my thumbnails, and I see that “avi” extension----that is enough to remind me that something was moving in the picture and I don’t even have to watch it.

     It leaves me more time to watch a “real” movie later----perhaps a little Vanilla Sky.

 

Charles Buell, Seattle Home Inspector

 

 

     When choosing light fixtures for your home, it important to consider whether they will be subject to mechanical damage or not.  I often find light fixtures that can be impacted when windows are opened, or hit by cabinet doors----or merely hung so low that one whacks their head on them when walking by.

     There is nothing quite like hot sharp glass going down ones neck----or under one’s bare feet.

     Here is a light fixture that was a poor choice for its proximity to a swinging door.

     Just click on the picture to see what happens.

 

Charles Buell, Seattle Home Inspector

 

 

     When I first started doing plumbing in 1971----at least for money----venting island kitchen sinks was a bit of a problem.  Every plumbing fixture needs a means of venting the drain line so that water doesn’t get sucked out of the trap----which could allow sewer gases to enter the home.  Somehow sewer gases and the smell of fresh baked bread or homemade pizza just don’t go together.

     We had to create all kinds of strange assemblies of pipes to create this venting----it worked, but was time consuming to construct and took a lot of additional pipe.  Pipe and time equal money.

     Along came the “auto-vent” or “air-vent.”  This mechanical device had a spring loaded gasket inside that would allow air to flow into the pipe but not let sewer gases out-----or, in the event of the pipes flooding, the device would not allow sewage out either.  How is that for a plan?  These vents could be installed right at the fixture location----saving tons of time, pipe and money.  Unfortunately most jurisdictions did not allow them----except in the mobile home industry----where they are still allowed----go figure.  Here is a picture of one of these vents that I found installed at a kitchen sink in new construction that had to be replaced after the inspection.

 

     If you can see a spring inside the cap, it is an Auto-Vent.

     At some point in the 90’s, a new type of air-vent could be found in the neighborhood----called the Air Admittance Valve---or AAV.  AAV’s quickly gained acceptance in most jurisdictions and are now widely used.  These valves are different from Auto-Vents in that there are no spring mechanisms that can fail and they have screens to keep out critters.  They have a simple EPDM diaphragm that allows air into the drain under negative pressure and seals tight under positive pressure (trust me you don’t want to know what the initials stand for---synthetic rubber for short). 

     AAV’s, to meet approval for use in residential construction, have to demonstrate that they can go through 500,000 cycles without ever passing gas----roughly equivalent to 30 years----man I sure wish I could do that!  Here is a picture of a modern AAV on a laundry sink drain.

     While a really simple device, they must be installed within 10 degrees of vertical, they must be installed on the welded-pipe side of the trap, they have to remain accessible and they cannot be the only means of venting the plumbing system.

     These Air Admittance valves come packaged with a rubber band that needs to be removed at the time of installation----I frequently find them with the rubber band still in place----rendering them non-functional.

     So, never----ever----pass gas again!

     Now what fun would that be?

 

 

Charles Buell, Seattle Home Inspector

 

 

     The other day at an inspection I saw a use of a laser beam that I had never seen before.

     Picture a laser pointer like your Home Inspector might use to point out things around the home or take temperatures with-----or the one a lecturer might use to point to things on a power point presentation.  Now mount the thing on the ceiling of your garage pointing straight down.  Sounds pretty strange doesn't it?

     Well, if you point the laser in the right place, when you drive your car into the garage and the laser beam hits your dashboard----you will know it is time to stop----before you wipe out the freezer.

     Pretty cool, yes?  People used to do the same thing with a tennis ball on a string----or a life size cut-out of Marilyn Monroe----I for one will miss Marilyn.

 

 

Charles Buell, Seattle Home Inspector

 

 

     If you live in a part of the country where the temperature dips below freezing, you should not leave your hoses connected to outside faucets.

     DO YOU KNOW WHERE YOUR HOSES ARE?

     Whether these are “Frost-free” type faucets or old style faucets that have interior shut-offs to drain the outside faucet, the hoses should be removed.  Water that remains in the hose can defeat the purpose of both types of faucets.

     Many homes have frost-free hose faucets.  These faucets actually have a long tube that runs to the interior space and the handle of the faucet has a long stem that runs inside the tube and shuts the water off inside the house----making the valve less likely to freeze.  When the valve is shut off the tube drains ----unless there is a hose on it out (at least it should if it is sloped the correct way).  Leaving the hose in place will defeat this function of the faucet.

     If you have an older home without frost-free type faucets there “should” be interior shut-offs so that the outside valves can drain the pipes.  Not operating this interior shut-off clearly leaves the valve vulnerable to freezing regardless of whether there is a hose on it or not.

     Some people like to put insulating foam caps over these valves and keep their fingers crossed.  These caps should not be unnecessary on frost-free type faucets.  I have seen these caps actually fill up with ice from VERY minor leaking of the valve and then this ice backs up into the tube where it can damage the valve.  This can happen with either type of valve.

     As a Seattle Home Inspector when I find hoses in place from October 1st until April 1st, I do not re-install the hoses after I test the valves for water pressure.  It will vary around the country, depending on how cold it gets, as to when you should leave your hoses disconnected in cold weather.  In Minnesota never leaving them in place might be a good idea.  Just kidding Reuben.  

 

Charles Buell, Seattle Home Inspector

 

 

     In the following picture we can see the electrical service to a home.  The large grey box marked “A” is a utility company junction box.  The utility company wires run underground to this box, where power is then distributed to panels “B” and “C.”  This set up is common in residences with large electrical services and are considered “double 200 amp” services or “400 amp” services.  There are also “sensors” in this box that send signals to the electric meter as to the amount of electricity being used.

     Just outside the garage door opening one can see the electrical conduit coming out of the ground and then turning at an angle where it runs through the garage wall and into Box “A.”

     Note how rusted the bottom of box “A” is----as well as rusting on the conduit coming out of the ground.

     What had happened with this electrical service is that the underground conduit runs up the hill away from the house (to the right in the picture).  At the high end of the conduit, away from the house, the pipe had been taking in ground-water and filling up to that corresponding level “inside” the conduit where it runs into the garage and inside Box “A’ itself.  This next picture shows previous water levels inside the pipe and box as indicated by rusting.

     These Utility Company Junction boxes should not be accessible by the property owner and should have utility company “seals” at the corners for safety.  This panel had no seals and the rust showing the high-water line inside the box was pretty spectacular-----high enough to cover electrical components within the panel.

     If you have a panel configuration that looks like this in your home (not very common by the way) and it does not have any Utility Company seals on it, you should call the utility to come and install seals on it for improved safety.  The next picture shows what those seals look like----the two orange doohickeys at the top corners of Panel “A.”

 

     What was especially curious about this panel is that someone knew about the flooding and had drilled six small holes in the cover of the conduit elbow so that water would run out at a lower level----preventing wate from running into Box “A.” 

 

     While this “repair” was likely very effective as a “temporary” fix, repairs are warranted to keep water out of the conduit all together as these small holes will, over time, rust shut or clog with debris----and the indoor panel might flood again.

 

     It is pretty much always a good idea to keep electricity and water from getting together.

 

 

Charles Buell, Seattle Home Inspector

 

 

     The qualifications necessary to be a home inspector has been discussed many times by me and others on this forum.  These discussions usually revolve around home inspector training, certifications, licenses and even personality.

     Today, however, I want to talk about what it "physically" takes to do the job and perhaps create another set of questions one might consider in determining if one's choice of a home inspector is the right one.

     It used to be, in the early days of home inspections, that if the inspector had a screw driver, a flash light and could walk around the home with a heartbeat they could call themselves a home inspector.  Now with the presence of home inspector associations, licensing and a huge increase in the education of home inspectors, coupled with increased consumer expectations of, the inspector must be better trained and have more tools in his bag of tricks.

     So here are a few questions that one could perhaps consider as to whether the inspector is up to the "physical" demands of the job.

1. Can the inspector crawl through an opening 12" by 16?"  Some times we must actually get through openings even smaller than this, but given that 16" wide is the minimum width of a crawl space opening and 12" is the minimum depth required under wood beams----this seems like a reasonable "minimum" size that an inspector should be able to get through without too much trouble.  If they cannot----how much information are they missing or deferring until proper access can be made-----or someone else can inspect the area?

2. Can the inspector climb three sets of stairs with a full tool belt at least four times during the course of the inspection----with one of the trips to include a ladder for getting into the attic?  Resting between trips should consist of performing the normal functions of inspecting whatever is necessary between trips.  Sitting on the top step and resting in a pool of sweat and tears may be an indication of a problem.

3. Is the inspector too afraid of spiders, rats, snakes or other common inhabitants of crawl spaces, to adequately inspect the space?

4. Ditto #3 for Attics.

5. Can the inspector suppress claustrophobia long enough to crawl down a narrow tunnel, 18” high or less, between ductwork and the foundation, for a minimum of 20' and then back their way out because there is not room to turn around?  Or will they leave the inspection wondering what was at the end of that tunnel?

6. Does the inspector have a good sense of balance?  If not, they may minimize the importance of meandering through elaborate roof structures to check out that b-vent, chimney or bird nest at the far end of the attic.

7. Is the inspector afraid of heights?  Traversing roofs, when safe, should be considered part of the job----being afraid of heights may limit an inspector's ability to give adequate information about the roof.

8. Can the inspector haul 50-70 pound extension ladders all around the exterior of the home? If not----they again may provide even less information about the roof they had deemed too unsafe to walk on or were too afraid to walk on in number 7.

     Some inspectors, that are not able to do some of these physical aspects of the inspection, may limit their inspections to homes where they don’t have to go in crawl spaces, on high roofs etc. 

     In general, I find the majority of successful home inspectors to be a fairly fit bunch that know their limitations, and that know how to take care of themselves-----but if your inspector is not, or you are thinking of becoming an inspector, this may be a good list to think about.

     So while this may be a pretty accurate list of necessary physical attributes, it does not even touch on some of the other things necessary to be a good home inspector such as, good typing skills, good computer skills, being internet savvy, being willing to work nights and weekends, and did I mention basically agreeing to not have a life until the report goes out?.

 

Charles Buell, Seattle Home Inspector

 

 

(first bit)

(second bit)

Chapter 3

"Out of the Attic"

      Several days passed and I completely forgot my buyer and the agent outside the attic (man is my wife going to be pissed).  Sarcastically I thought to myself how great for business this was going to be and how it would probably be the last referral I would get from that agent.  My wife will kill me----but I will survive.  We always joke about her being an “inspection widow” when she has to watch movies alone due to my working on reports all night.  Relationships can be a whole other side of a different kind of attic----difficult at times to assess ----never mind access.

     For some reason, being where I was seemed to make perfect sense.  It made sense in spite of not being able to make any sense as to where “here” actually was.  It was kind of like I had both choice and no choice all at the same time.  Weird.

     The apartment was an eclectic visual feast.  The smell of pancakes and real maple syrup----and cinnamon----filled the room.  There were Tibetan carpets covering the walls and a row of brightly colored skis created a room divider.  A giant fish tank, with a very large and hard working plecostomus, bubbled away near the window.  I couldn’t see through the window----as if either its seals had been broken for many years or it was covered with some amorphous film.  I wanted so badly to be able to get my bearings.

     There was a Monopoly game set up for four players on the Lake & Company Realty sign doubling as a coffee table----and it was obvious that one of the players thinks they are Donald Trump.

     There was a 24” tall candle----the likeness of Antonio Banderas as Zorro----standing next to the fireplace.  Wax was dripping off the brim of his hat into the hole in his glove where his sword should be.  There was also the entire VHS collection of Planet of the Apes----all five of them.

     I had learned that ice-pack girl’s name was Lara (apparently her parents were huge fans of Dr. Zhivago----even though she herself had not seen the movie).  She worked at Trader Joe’s, was going to night school to become a nurse and her kids went to North Beach Elementary School in Ballard.  All normal sounding enough.  However, I was perpetually plagued with questions of where “here” was.

    From the other room, where the kids were playing, I heard the boy scream in frustration for having landed on a “Licorice Square.” 

     I learned that Lara's husband had been tragically killed by a drunk driver 8 years earlier and that she graduated from Ballard High School in 1998.  She and her husband had owned a house together but she could not afford to keep it on just her income so she came to live where she is now----after living with her parents for a month.  All of this stuff should be easy enough to verify.  If only I had my I-Phone, I could have gotten to the bottom of it all, right then and there.  She could tell by the skeptical look on my face that I didn’t really believe her.

     She took me to the breakfast nook where she had her laptop.  She showed me stuff on the internet that confirmed everything she was saying.  Now I was really curious.  We spent several hours searching the web----about her---even the newspaper account of her husband’s death----and then about me, my business, my wife and kids----Facebook.  Everything was a seamless, consistent, stream of incontrovertible facts----facts that painted a very clear picture of the “truth”----that things were the way they were.  I slowly came to terms with the reality that the demand to “know” was preventing my enjoyment of being alive during the times of not knowing.  It miraculously, no longer mattered that I could not explain where “here” was.  There is freedom in small favors.

     The next morning when I woke up, someone with really bad pepperoni pizza breath was shining a very bright and annoying light in my eyes----first one eye then the other.  I heard them say, “Equal and responsive.”

 

Charles Buell, Seattle Home Inspector

 

 

(previous bit)

Chapter 2,

"In the Attic"

     The buyer and the agent were chatting near the access opening when I popped my head back out of the attic.  I collected my tools and told them about the other opening and that I needed to go back in and check it out.  They seemed more interested in the old trunks and the pulp novel, “Pajama Party.”

     Once back in the attic, I made my way back to the second access panel.  These screws were like new----there were no mangled slots, as if they had never been removed since the day they were installed----certainly they had never been painted.  They were also only about an inch and a half long and came out relatively easily with the right tools----didn’t need vice-grips after all.  

     With the cover out of the way I discovered there was another panel.  This panel slid up into a slot above it and I had to find something to prop it open. 

     A little ledge at the top of the opening under the panel provided a place where my screw driver could precariously support the heavy panel.  I had visions of Marie Antoinette.  Through the opening I could see the yellowed museum label and paper backing of a painting----the picture’s hanger-wire ran vertical in the opening. This must be inside a closet somewhere I thought.  I slid the picture to one side and I was fortunate that this was not one of 20 paintings stacked against the opening.  Just the one----lucky me.  Behind the painting there was a mountain of stuffed animals.  It reminded me of the closet ET hid in to elude discovery.  I was willing to bet that I would stick out like a sore thumb to anyone on the other side of this pile----then again maybe not.  Pushing the pile aside, I thought I heard voices and laughter----must be the buyer and the agent I figured. 

     The smell of pancakes and real maple syrup filled the air. 

     The closet light was on----I would not need my flashlight any longer.  I took my shoes off one at a time and stepped into the pile of stuffed animals as I left the attic behind.  The floor was carpeted.

     The oddest feeling came over me because none of the house so far had been carpeted.  I was entering a giant walk-in closet with louvered doors.  I looked out through the louvers to see two young children, a boy and a girl, lying on the floor playing a board game----Candyland.  Panic stricken, I stood up hard----cracking my skull on a sharp metal shelf support and then collapsed, bleeding, into the pile of stuffed animals.

     When I came to, a woman that I assumed to be the children’s mother was kneeling down beside me and holding an ice-pack on my head.  The children were huddled around her shoulders smiling wide curious smiles.

     “Where am I,” I asked, trying to feel the bump on my head under the cold ice-pack.

     “Next door,” she answered nonchalantly.

     At this point I was beginning to think that I had done something much worse than crack my skull.  I knew damn well there could be no “next door”----at least not directly attached to this house that I was inspecting. 

     Had “curiosity” actually finally killed the cat? 

     I knew that if I asked her the address of where we were, I could get to the bottom of where we actually were and all this “next door” baloney would go away.

     “What address are we at?” I asked her, wincing from the pain in my head.

     “3647 North South Street,” she answered without hesitating.

     While I had hoped for a simple answer to the confusion, this answer only made matters worse.  That was in fact the address of my inspection, so how could it also be her address?  I confessed to her that I didn’t understand how this could be.  She just said that she couldn’t explain it either but that she and her kids had lived there for several years.

     “But I don’t understand where “here” is,” I said trying to muster some sense of composure, when all I really wanted was an aspirin.  I was also grateful that I didn’t have to explain what I was doing in her closet.

     “I am here to inspect the house----and now I am here with you----and for the life of me I can’t figure out how this can possibly be,” I pleaded.

     “We know why you are here.  We have been listening to you through the walls since you got here----we even heard you up on the roof,” she said.

     “Listen lady, I know a lot about houses and I know damn well there simply is not room for this space I am in right now to fit inside the house I started inspecting this morning,” I declared.

     “Well that obviously cannot be so----because here we are,” she said with a sympathetic smile.

      Remembering hearing the laughter of the children I said, “If you have been here all along, why didn’t I hear you or the kids through the walls from the other side?” I was feeling confident again that I might still find a reasonable explanation.

     “Perhaps you were not listening,” she said.

     Ouch.  She certainly knew how to cut to the quick---as she pressed my coveted “powers of observation” button.  I decided to humor her and just go along for the ride for the time being----and see where this adventure would take me.  Sooner or later “curiosity” always kicks in----as reliable as death itself and perhaps why eventually curiosity does kill the cat.

(continued in a bit)

 

 

Charles Buell, Seattle Home Inspector