12.37 EST: The landlord was forced to go home last night before figuring out what the heck is wrong with the plumbing. He arrived here today shortly after nine with some rented equipment and a pretty clear idea about where "the block" is. Well, it wasn't there. So now out kitchen floor is a mess of muddy boot prints, the garbage and recycling are no longer in the cupboard, the paneling is piled near the fridge, and the drywall has been sawed through. The landlord is now at the hardware shop buying some more stuff. Oh well, at least we still have water, the guy in the front of the house had to use our shower this morning. More updates as stuff occurs. Hopefully I will not have the opportunity to use the word "spout" today.

13.41 EST: The landlord has now poured something mucho-caustic down the drain. How can I tell? I can feel the build up of Toronto-residue in my lungs breaking up.

16.46 EST: Drain 3, Landlord 0. He finally called in the professionals, who cleared the blockage. The bleach smell is finally starting to fade and hopefully the kitchen sink will no longer spew garlic cloves and used toilet paper. The only bad news, if the landlord decides to excavate and replace the section of pipe where the block occurs, it's in the middle of our living room. Man, we were already thinking about moving, I hope in a couple of months, when we hand in our notice, that he doesn't think that the prospect of a hole in our living room drove us to a new apartment. -Zh.


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