"Honey, does this house have an ark?"

We had our first homeowners' panic Sunday morning. It involved water squirting from places it shouldn't.

Our old washer and dryer were sold with the previous house, which was okay, since they were Craigslist finds. After some research and price agony, we finally bought a front load set from Samsung for a pretty darned good price. They were delivered on Dec. 30, but aside from spinning the dryer during installation, they hadn't been touched.

So, with the manual open on my laptop, we started to calibrate the washer so it can properly weigh the load and figure out the proper amount of water. A couple minutes in, we get a code that means no water is coming in. Okay, no problem, maybe we just need to release the valve.

We did.

And promptly went oh crap!

Mike turned into a blur of swears and pounding feet. Off to the basement he went to find the main shut off valve as the washer valve started singing and squirting water like ... a sailor? A drunken sailor wet from falling off the dock. Yeah, we'll go with that.

Downstairs, Mike had to find the main shut off. Which looked like this:

Yep. He had to contend with the London Underground. His panicked zigging and zagging upstairs and downstairs was him trying to figure out which of the 6 valves was the right valve. So, you know, we wouldn't blow a wet hole in the wall. There was lots of running, lots of shouting, towel wringing, etc.

Then the noise stopped, and he comes running back. For now, things seem to be okay on the not-flooding-the-house front, but Mike is still tense. I pull up YouTube and look up "leaking washer valve" and find a 3-minute video. Basically, we need to tighten a nut.

"Grab my toolbox!"

Okay! With a wrench, Mike tightens the nut, messes with the valve, and patters downstairs again with parting instructions to scream really loudly if water continues to squirt out. In a few seconds, there's a loud gurgle rolling through house, which is a pretty ominous sound. Like, if I were on the Titanic as it's listing from the bow, and heard this, I would think, "I guess it's time to get out of here." Because the tilted deck isn't a good enough sign.

Anyway, water comes gushing out of all of the sink faucets on the main floor ... but nothing comes out of the washer valve. Whew! I dash over to the basement stairs to let Mike know, and one by one, we shut off the sink faucets and build pressure at the washer valve. All clear!

High fives!

Then Mike brings me downstairs and shows me the London Underground that is our water cabinet. He'd had to guess where the main shut off was located, and in doing so, he thinks he opened flow to the automated sprinkler system. Which had been previously winterized and now might not be, putting us at risk for bursting pipes. But he took a bucket and opened up what looked like a release valve from the sprinkler valve and emptied the contents. Which wasn't much, so he'll do it again today, just to be safe. We hope.

Valves up top and valves below. Wanna roll some dice?

Once the panicked vision of burst pipes and soaked drywall faded, we ran a rinse cycle in the washer. Which was mesmerizing. We've never had a FL washer, and it was fascinating to watch. The concave door creates an illusion that the water is shooting out, but really its being directed into a drain (I assume, anyway). Also, it corrects drum imbalances, so if it starts rocking, within seconds it's back on quiet track. We basically sat in front of the washer and watched it go, just like kids sitting in front of the TV watching Saturday cartoons.

Yeah, we're easily fascinated.