Showing posts with label toilet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label toilet. Show all posts

14 June, 2008

Clark-Devon Hardware / Standard Low-Tank Toilet

Image from Yelp

After many months of looking at the pieces of our disassembled 1920s Standard Low Tank Toilet, we're finally getting around to making it functional. The decision to rent the top unit of The Box House had left us with only one toilet for the three adults in our household. There are certain days, post chili night, for example, when a second toilet would come in mighty handy. Mighty. Handy.

The Standard toilet in the basement is as old as the house, and replacement parts are not easy to come by. Ted searched online, and found several sites that are obviously out to get naive customers because they charge beaucoup bucks for simple parts. We figured there had to be a better solution.

We tried Home Depot first for the heck of it, because it's around the corner from our house and we figured we might find something that would work. No dice, but the plumbing guy did send us to Clark-Devon Hardware down in Rogers Park, a place I've been meaning to make it to for a while now.

Clark-Devon Hardware has been in operation since 1924, and owned and operated by three generations of the same family. This place is AMAZING, with hard-to-find house renovation supplies that you can't get anywhere else--and at pretty reasonable prices. They had everything we (think) we need to get the toilet working and we spent--ta dah--all of five bucks. The staff was very helpful and knowledgeable and we were so surprised to actually get what we needed, that I want to give them a special shout out. If you live in or near north Chicago, definitely check out this old time hardware store.

Ted's going to work on the toilet late tonight or tomorrow, so I'll post the accompanying pics later. Because our offices are also in the basement, having a second toilet here is going to be great. I know the room looks a little--ahem--crappy at the moment, but a lot of bleach to disinfect and clean it up and a new toilet seat will elevate it above most public washrooms.


30 January, 2008

Our Standard Low Tank Toilet

"Behind the nuts were even bigger nuts," Ted explained as he described trying to remove the tank from the bowl of our 1920s Standard low tank toilet in the basement. I was wedged into the corner of the tiny bathroom, which thankfully was now clear of spider eggs, twisted awkwardly and trying to keep the 7-gallon tank from crashing to the floor as Ted attempted to remove the final nut holding it in. Or what we thought was the final one.

Twenty minutes later, my interest in the toilet had waned and I was rearranging unpacked boxes in new, more-interesting configurations while Ted continued to putter with the tank. He had it propped up with a stack of paint cans he found in the electric room, the 3 x 10 foot room in the basement with two outdated service boxes and shelves filled with various types of paint cans left by the previous owners.

Finally, after a bit more banging around the bathroom, success!

We were taking the toilet apart in order to thoroughly clean it, sanitize it, and to more or less see how it worked and what kind of seals we would need, as it was leaking slightly. Sure, it wastes a lot of water with each flush, but it's vintage, and would only be used as the spare toilet if the ones in the units were occupied (or if one of us was having trouble digesting our dinner and didn't want to...er...offend).

Only, with the tank off and more light illuminating the base of the bowl, we could see that it was cracked in several places. Is it worth salvaging? Or, since we have to pay to get a new toilet seat and replacement parts anyway, is it better to simply get a whole new, more energy-efficient and environmentally responsible toilet? Touch and Flow sells vintage parts, including bowls, and has instructions for making repairs. And I like the idea of salvaging this if possible. Thoughts?

And before you ask, yes, I have used this toilet, grotty though it is at present. In a moment of desperation because we were locked out of the upstairs units and while hovering precariously--Lord knows I wasn't going to sit on that--I made this house truly mine.

Men have it so much easier, don't they?