A few days ago, I bumped into an old friend who was out walking his dog. He's called Dougie and, to my amusement, I discovered that he'd named his pet 'Wee Dougie'.
Meeting him reminded me of some DIY nightmares. Just for background information, Dougie is a plasterer to trade (and a very good one). He is, however, an awful electrician.
Many years ago, I got a phone call from him. Could I come and help? He'd blown a fuse. No problem, says I, and off I go like the Seventh Cavalry to the rescue.
What I found filled me with both horror and amusement. Amusement at his antics and sheer horror that he could have fried himself.
Let me explain. He was attempting to wire up an outside light - all very straightforward. But here's where it goes pear shaped. For those that don't know....when electricity enters a home (in the UK...might be different elsewhere), the feed first goes to a 60 Amp fuse and then to the distruibution board (fuse box or trip amps) and then it's fed all around your house for lighting etc.
Dougie had been trying to wire up his outside light but he had been trying to wire it up between the main fuse and feed to the distribution board...ie...on the incoming (wrong side) of the distribution board feed. He had been using a pair of pliers (which had suffered a very large hole blown through the jaws), had a plastic carrier bag on each foot and had been standing on a plastic bucket. The fuse he had blown was the main 60 Amp fuse. This is sealed to prevent tampering and I therefore told him that I would not be touching it and that he'd have to call the energy supplier (before privatisation so it was the SSEB..South Of Scotland Electricity Board). I explained how lucky he'd been and that it was fortunate that he was still alive.
Did he learn his lesson? Well, as our northern English friends would say, did he 'eck as like.
A few years after the first incident, I got another call. This time he had decided to change all the light roses and light switches in his home. He had disconnected everything but had not marked or identified any cables during the disconnection. When he wired it all up, fuses were blowing time after time. I got the call and duly arrived on the scene. By this time I was thinking that perhaps I should install a red 'Dougie' hotline phone and Batpole in my house so I could respond more quickly to his electrical misadventures. It took me about five or six hours to sort everything out (and I blew a few fuses myself during this process). When I was finished, he promised me that he was never again going to touch anything electrical and I gave a sigh of relief.
But that's not the end of the story. While I was fixing out the tangle of unidentified wires hanging from every ceiling and switch hole, his wife sat the whole time cursing and swearing at him, telling him how useless a waste of space he was. It made my job all the more uncomfortable because I didn't want to find myself in the middle of a domestic crisis as I did my best to put things right.
They were divorced a few months later. I never did ask him if the wiring incident had anything to do with it but, either way, I think they were better apart.
Perhaps where Dougie is concerned DIY stands for Divorce It Yourself
Meeting him reminded me of some DIY nightmares. Just for background information, Dougie is a plasterer to trade (and a very good one). He is, however, an awful electrician.
Many years ago, I got a phone call from him. Could I come and help? He'd blown a fuse. No problem, says I, and off I go like the Seventh Cavalry to the rescue.
What I found filled me with both horror and amusement. Amusement at his antics and sheer horror that he could have fried himself.
Let me explain. He was attempting to wire up an outside light - all very straightforward. But here's where it goes pear shaped. For those that don't know....when electricity enters a home (in the UK...might be different elsewhere), the feed first goes to a 60 Amp fuse and then to the distruibution board (fuse box or trip amps) and then it's fed all around your house for lighting etc.
Dougie had been trying to wire up his outside light but he had been trying to wire it up between the main fuse and feed to the distribution board...ie...on the incoming (wrong side) of the distribution board feed. He had been using a pair of pliers (which had suffered a very large hole blown through the jaws), had a plastic carrier bag on each foot and had been standing on a plastic bucket. The fuse he had blown was the main 60 Amp fuse. This is sealed to prevent tampering and I therefore told him that I would not be touching it and that he'd have to call the energy supplier (before privatisation so it was the SSEB..South Of Scotland Electricity Board). I explained how lucky he'd been and that it was fortunate that he was still alive.
Did he learn his lesson? Well, as our northern English friends would say, did he 'eck as like.
A few years after the first incident, I got another call. This time he had decided to change all the light roses and light switches in his home. He had disconnected everything but had not marked or identified any cables during the disconnection. When he wired it all up, fuses were blowing time after time. I got the call and duly arrived on the scene. By this time I was thinking that perhaps I should install a red 'Dougie' hotline phone and Batpole in my house so I could respond more quickly to his electrical misadventures. It took me about five or six hours to sort everything out (and I blew a few fuses myself during this process). When I was finished, he promised me that he was never again going to touch anything electrical and I gave a sigh of relief.
But that's not the end of the story. While I was fixing out the tangle of unidentified wires hanging from every ceiling and switch hole, his wife sat the whole time cursing and swearing at him, telling him how useless a waste of space he was. It made my job all the more uncomfortable because I didn't want to find myself in the middle of a domestic crisis as I did my best to put things right.
They were divorced a few months later. I never did ask him if the wiring incident had anything to do with it but, either way, I think they were better apart.
Perhaps where Dougie is concerned DIY stands for Divorce It Yourself
