I think I smell something burning. And I don’t smoke.

I think I smell something burning. And I don’t smoke.

Yesterday dashing out the door for an interview, I ran into the kitchen and smelled… 

Cigarettes and burning rubber. Strong cigarettes and burning rubber. 

That’s not good when no one in your house smokes (at least not often and we would never, ever admit to it publicly) and the nearest NASCAR racetrack is 60 miles away. It’s especially not good when you live in a house that is over 100 years old and electricians stare at your box and shake their head. So I cancelled my appointment and called Scott Branch of Branch Electric. Then I called my husband and he immediately thinks $$$$. So then I had to be voice of reason and calmly say, “Let’s be thankful that the house hasn’t burned to the ground…yet.” He had to agree. 

I opened the cabinet door and opened the door to the fuse box and this is what I saw. 

See, it’s really old. Pretty colored fuses that I have no idea about even after living with this box for 10 years. A fuse blows and I just stick one in. If I don’t happen to have one of the right color, I try anything. It usually  works till I can get the right color. Or keeps working till it blows because I forgot about getting the right color. 

You can see what it looks like, but you can’t smell it. 

Scott did the minute he came through the door. 

Here’s what he showed me. 

The nekkid fuse box. Not a pretty sight.

No it would be be a pretty sight, even if  in focus. He spotted the problem and fixed it, though it was a temporary fix. We’re going to have to get a breaker box soon, but shh.. we won’t talk about that now. $$$$ 

Thankfully all was okay, but when Scott was moving  those wires around I was just glad he knew what he was doing. Electricity is nothing you want to mess with if you don’t know anything about. 

I asked him what to do if there was a fire. He recommended a type of fire extinguisher, but reminded me — it had to be a chemical product. He showed me what to rip out if the thing started smoking. Of course, he didn’t say “rip”, but that’s what I would certainly do…while screaming. 

Thank goodness for good electricians. Thank goodness our house is okay and we won’t talk about $$$ spent on old houses anymore today. 

Except if you want to vent and old house $$$ story, please feel free to comment away. 

I promise not to remind your spouse about all the $$$$ they’ve spent on the old house you wanted but they didn’t. (Johnny dearest…that didn’t mean you. Okay, that did mean you, but you are a trooper. I think you kind of like this house now. Maybe a little bit?)