Home repair basics, one fix per page
Twenty-two fixes that keep a first house honest.
Calm, practical, and small enough to actually do.
Home repair basics, one fix per page
Twenty-two fixes that keep a first house honest.
Set in Space Grotesk, Inter and JetBrains Mono (SIL Open Font License).
Practices checked against the US EPA (lead RRP, WaterSense, mold guidance), CPSC (CO alarms, GFCI, wiring hazards), NFPA and USFA (smoke alarms), OSHA and NIOSH (ladders), US DOE (air sealing), ENERGY STAR, and manufacturer instruction patterns.
General information only, not professional advice. Codes vary by town: your local building department and the manufacturer's instructions are the final word.
Your purchase is for personal use only. You do not have redistribution rights: please do not share, resell, or republish this book or its pages.
© 2026 Steve Hodgkiss. All rights reserved. Personal use only; no redistribution rights.
Edition 1.0 · stevehodgkiss.net
Contents
Water
Five pages on the water you pay for twice: once at the meter, once when it lands somewhere new. The toilet that runs, the tap that drips, the stain that grew, and the hoses holding a thousand gallons behind your washer.
- 01The meter test
- 02The running toilet
You cannot fix a leak you have not confirmed, and most leaks announce themselves only as a number. The meter is a truth machine: it spins for every gallon, heard or not.
The meter test
Everything off, then read the meter. Recheck two quiet hours later: still creeping? The leak is real and yours.
The classic mistake is chasing sounds. Silent leaks show up only as numbers. One flapper wastes 200 gallons a day.
It turns and every fixture checks clean: water moves in a wall. Plumber.
The meter is the only witness that never blinks.
Tonight, before bed: everything off, photograph the meter, go to sleep. Compare in the morning. Photograph again either way.
The flapper is the rubber door at the bottom of the tank. Scale and age stop it seating, the tank drains into the bowl, and the fill valve wakes to top it up.
The running toilet
Lift the tank lid and watch. Water creeping over the overflow tube: bend the fill float down. Draining to the bowl: the flapper.
Dye tab tonight, no flushing; colour in the bowl by morning is flapper confirmed. Wipe the seat, new flapper, ten minutes.
Still running on a fresh flapper: tank hardware is a plumber's hour.
Two parts cause nine of ten running toilets.
Do the dye test tonight. Color in the bowl means a matching flapper, a weekend swap, then repeat the test to prove the fix.
Light and power
Four pages that make electricity less mysterious without making it inviting: the outlet that protects you, the fixture you can change, the breaker that tripped for a reason, and the alarms that buy you the minutes that matter.
- 01The breaker trip
- 02The smoke alarm map
A circuit is a loop with a capacity, and every appliance draws from the same pot. Demand beats the wire's rating, and the breaker opens the loop before the wire heats.
The breaker trip
Unplug everything on the dead circuit. Full off, then on: the click resets it. Plug back one item at a time until it trips.
The last thing plugged in is usually the story. A trip is protection doing its job. Space heaters on one circuit do this.
Trips with nothing plugged in, humming, warm faceplate: electrician, this week.
Subtract until it stops. The last plug confesses.
If a breaker trips more than occasionally, unplug its newest resident and note the date. Repeat trips earn an electrician call this week.
Smoke gives you minutes, and placement decides how many. The fire authorities agree: inside every bedroom, outside the sleeping areas, and on every level including the basement.
The smoke alarm map
Inside each bedroom, outside the doors, one per level. Ceiling, or high on the wall: smoke rises. Basement included.
The classic mistake is the hallway-only layout. A shut bedroom door buys poison, not time. Replace the whole alarm at ten years.
Hardwired alarms are electrician work. Photo every date tonight.
Bedrooms, doors, levels. Ten years, whole unit.
Photograph the back of every alarm tonight and check the year. Press every test button. Older than ten, or a bedroom bare: order today.
Seasonal guard
Five pages on the quiet maintenance that decides whether winter is an event or a season: gutters, filters, drafts, the ground around the foundation, and the detector for the gas you cannot see or smell.
- 01The gutter clean
- 02The furnace filter
- 03The drafty door
- 04The CO detector
A gutter's job is to hand roof water to a downspout. A mat of seeds and leaves dams the trough, the next storm pours over the edge and pools at the foundation.
The gutter clean
Firm ladder, flat legs, gloved hands. Clear the trough to a bucket; check patterns from the ground.
The classic mistake is leaning the ladder on the gutter lip. Gutters are aluminium, not scaffolding. Wall side, never overreach.
Two storeys, any roof walking, uneven ground: pro. Roofs are pro territory.
Twice a year, or after every big storm.
Walk the house after the next rain and watch every edge. Spill points mark your first cleaning. Book the ladder for a dry Saturday.
Your furnace has lungs, and the filter is the diaphragm. Whole-house air passes that one slot, and the filter catches what you would rather not breathe. It fills up by design.
The furnace filter
The old filter's arrow shows airflow, toward the blower. New one in with its arrow the same way. Write the date on the frame.
The classic mistake is the highest MERV number. A tight filter chokes an old furnace. Match what the manual names.
Runs weak on a fresh filter? Ducts or blower: technician.
Check monthly, change on schedule, not on hope.
Find the slot, slide the filter out, read its size aloud. Order a three-pack today and write the install date on the frame.
The cold corner by the balcony door is not the house's personality. It is a gap, and the DOE splits every gap in two: still joints get caulk, moving joints get weatherstrip.
The drafty door
Wet the back of your hand and walk the frame. The cold spot is the leak: foam tape on the stop, a sweep below.
The classic mistake is caulking a moving joint. It cracks by spring. Caulk stills, weatherstrip moves.
Mist between panes, a gap no strip fills: the unit is failing. Contractor.
Caulk what never moves. Strip what does.
Close the door on a strip of paper at three points tonight. It slides out freely, the seal is gone. Add a sweep this week.
Carbon monoxide is the hazard you cannot sense: no smell, no color, no taste. It comes from anything that burns fuel incompletely, and headaches that ease outside are its signature.
The CO detector
Combustion makes it; a sealed house keeps it. A headache that eases outdoors is its signature. The alarm is the only nose you have.
Detectors expire in five to ten years, stamped on the back. A dead sensor is silence you can trust once. Every level, near bedrooms.
If it sounds: out, everyone, then 911. Flame appliances: annual pro service.
You cannot sense it. The detector is the plan.
Check for a CO alarm. None, or older than its stamped date: order a UL 2034 unit today, hallway outside the bedrooms. Test tonight.