Electricity is not my bitch

There are reasons I’m not an EE. Public safety, for one.

UPDATE: So, after the infamous Basement Thankgiving Day Electrical Switch Special, you’d think I’d learned my lesson.

Ah, but no.

In the new guest room, there is an outlet. That outlet had to be raised 12 inches to be above the new built in counter to the right (audience) of the murphy bed.

I did that.

Then the line from that needed to be run a foot or so right, and another several inches up, to act as a switch for the lighting going over the murphy bed.

I did that.

And then the power line needed to be run up to a new box up by the ceiling, which would be within the header section of the murphy bed.

Did that, too.

And then the two downlights over the murphy bed had to be installed, and wired. And all those teeny-tiny wires hooked up to the ROMEX running through the header space.

Yup, me.

So when we turned on the power (needless to say, we had turned off the power whenever working on this wiring), it was no tremendous surprise that the lights didn’t.

*sigh*

So, turn off the power, and try to figure out at which of the many points above I’d broken the power continuity.

Well, I knew the power was going to the new outlet just fine. So, after fiddling around with a couple of things, we decided to try out the new switch. And when I pulled out the switch, some of the little wires pulled out from the wire nuts. Hmmm. Maybe that’s the problem.

Pulled everything out. Rewired it carefully. It’s a small box we installed, and the dimmer (a very faboo dimmer, mind you) is quite large, so it’s a very tight fit. But I got everything together, and carefully pushed back into the box, at least a little. Jim suggested we see if that solve the problem.

Margie goes out and, on our cue, turns the breaker on. Only one light comes on. Hrm. I tap the dimmer switch, to see if it turns off properly.

POP!

And, also, FLASH! And PUFF! And GAH! This last was me, as I watched electricity spark and smoke puff out of the switch and an interestingly colored flame.

We suggested to Marge that she throw the breaker again, which she did, along with increasingly alarmed requests for further information, as she could hear me saying some words that were inappropriate for Katherine to hear (let alone polite company).

My irk was only increased when Jim noted that I had wired the dimmer switch as though it was an outlet (all the blacks together, all the whites together, all the grounds together), which actually mean that I’d done a seriously bad thing insofar as the Arcane Mysteries of Electricity go, hence the small fireworks display.

We had another dimmer of the same type, and, mirabile dictu, I actualy RTed the FM, and noted how I needed to really wire the thing. How educational.

Long story short, I did so, we turned the power back on (with much prayer and “Stand back, Kitten!”), and things worked.

Well, no, they didn’t (it turned out there was a disconnected wire in one of the downlights, too), but that was a much more mundane story that didn’t involve actinic flashes and puffs of smoke.

*sigh*

Ah, well. Live and (should one survive) learn.

Oh, and the picture? That’s the dead (partially cremated, I understand) dimmer. If you look carefully, you can see some nice singe marks around the base of the green (ground) wire and midway along the blue (hot to the lights) wires.

Never did much care for electromagnetics in high school physics, and my fondness for it hasn’t grown over the years …

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