I just popped a breaker which means nothing

because I went down into the basement, walked over to the panel, reset it and was back in business. 

I had unplugged the offender when the breaker popped and now I have a lamp to rewire which won't take but a few minutes but I digress.

Anyway, the whole thing was a real non event because I keep my breaker panel areas clear.

I didn't have to move 16 boxes, three crates and Aunt Mildred's coffee table and two chairs to get to it. I just walked down to the panel, opened it and reset it. It was that easy.

Over the years I've helped friends and neighbors that are not all that house savvy and one thing I have noticed is that in many cases having to get to a breaker panel means you practically have to call a moving company to get all the floor to ceiling crap stored in front of the panel. Generally it's something like a crated engine block or cases of lead yo-yos. Things of that nature unless one is unfortunate enough to run into something like a gigantic intertwined table and chair legs that are tangled up like a Chinese puzzle and must be carefully disassembled.

In that case you're kinda screwed. 

Years ago I threatened to get some red and yellow paint and paint a red and yellow striped area on the floor below the panel with a red box in the center neatly stenciled with 'Breaker box. Keep clear.' but I didn't have to because my other half did a pretty good job of keeping it clear.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY