"What We Have Here is a Failure to Communicate."

That's what the first wire said to the second and third wires.

The story starts out a few weeks ago. Just before we decided to replace the light fixture in the dining room, the old light went out. We thought it was nothing major--just a burnt out bulb. So after I triumphantly got the new fixture wired in while John dutifully supported the weight of the chandelier, John turned the breaker back on, we flipped the switch....and.....nothing. Not a single bulb flickered to life.

WTF, I wondered. I figured I messed the wiring up or something (yes, I admit to making mistakes).

The "pop....pop.....sizzle" from the switch plate prompted John to quickly run outside to turn the breaker off.

I pried open the switch plate, pulled out the switch, and saw a lovely mess of THREE different 14-gauge cables connected to the single tiny switch.

"WTF," I said aloud.

WTF, indeed.

The lovely owner/builder of our lovely abode thought it was perfectly acceptable/intelligent/legal to put three different wire cables into the same switch. Riiiiiight. Mike Holmes (John's personal hero) would be disgusted.

We taped off the wires, replaced the switch to prevent anything from getting in there, and lived without a light in the dining room/hallway, or power outlets on that part of the house.

The unlighted-light. Beautiful, isn't it? A STEAL from Habitat's Restore!

A few weeks ago, John talked to our neighbour across the street (Frank). He's an electrical engineer for Cal Edison and moonlights as a handyman, so John asked him if he come take a look at our electrical sometime (we have issues with the dish washer/disposal, the switch plate for the ceiling fan, the circuit for the garage......etc etc etc). So yesterday when we got home from a trip to Lowes for a ceiling medallion and some painting supplies for the downstairs master (as soon as it's done, we'll post piccies), Frank came over and asked if would be a good time to look at the wiring. He gathered his tackle-box full of wonderful electrical gadgetry, and met us inside. I made appropriate excuses for the embarrassing amount of boxed clutter that still dominates the downstairs, and Frank got to work prying open the switch.

"What the heck!" he exclaimed as he saw the rat's nest* of cables (he's much more polite than I, but I'd like to think he actually self-censored and was secretly thinking "WTF").

Frank went back to his house for reinforcements in the form of expensive but handy tools, meters, and sensors, and in no-time, he had figured out what was going on. The builder had run a single 14-gauge cable to the light switch. From there, he ponied in two other 14-gauge cables, ran one to the opposite side of the wall to for the light switch that powered the light in the hallway, and the other cable was run down the wall and provided power to the single gang power socket below the light switch, which provided the power for another piggy-backed socket further down the wall.

Ye-haw. Genius!

Frank got everything hooked back up, reconnected the ground for the two light switches and two of the three sockets grounded (the other socket has something going on with the grounding wire below the house, so we'll have to figure that out later) and replaced all the switches and plates and made everything beautiful again. And miraculously, all the lights and outlets worked without the symphonic POP SIZZLE that previously accompanied their use.

Yay for Frank!

Next, John asked him to take a look at the garbage disposal/dishwasher outlet. Basically, what's wrong is that the outlet only has one socket that works, and that socket is the one controlled by the switch above the sink. So we can never use the dishwasher and disposal at the same time (which is just as well because, despite its inherent convenience, the dishwasher is only ever used for a drying rack for all the hand washed dishes....an expensive drying rack, mind you). Frank figured out that the issue wasn't with the socket it self (as everything appeared to be wired correctly), so he decided it was more likely an issue with the switch.

After getting the plate off, Frank exclaimed "What the Heck!" again (this time with a capital "H"). Evidently, our lovely builder/owner ran a single 14-gauge cable to the switch, and divided it among: the disposal, the dish washer, the power outlet, the light above the sink, another power switch, and the complete lighting circuit for the Strip in Vegas. That's right, the cluster-fork of cables in the dining room switch was nothing compared to the cluster-fork of cables connected to our kitchen. Yippee!

So John and Frank discussed the options and looked around outside. For whatever reason, the house has an electric water heater (despite it's insanely close proximity to the gas line for the GAS STOVE and GAS DRYER) which appears to be wired correctly on a dual 30 amp circuit. John and I hate that we have an electric water heater, so we were hoping to replace it with a gas water heater at some point in the future. Conveniently, Frank's brother-in-law works for the gas company, and Frank seems to think that his brother-in-law could switch out the water heater no problem for around $200 in labor. That would free up a 30 amp circuits for correctly wiring the kitchen and a 30 amp circuit for the garage (so John will have an excuse to buy the table saw that he REALLY wants instead of settling for the table saw he got a good deal on). Best of all, Frank thought his electrical work would be about $200 in labor. So there's a good possibility we could get the gas water heater (maybe even tankless!) and electric wired correctly for under $1000. Plus, the water heater would likely qualify for a $150-200 rebate from SoCal Gas for increased energy efficiency.

And we only forked over $40 for Frank to do all this. Thanks, Frank! To celebrate, I made mojitos for Frank, Josh and me (and put Frank's in an adult sippy-cup to go) while John took a swig from his Mug Rootbeer.

* In actuality, no self-respecting Rat would be caught dead with that mess of cables. So, out of respect for all self-respecting Rats out there, I apologize. But I'm sure you Rats out there know at least ONE Rat that lives in utter squalor, so I'm referring to that piggy Rat, and not to you.