I'll get to it. But I need to set the scene first, because the setup is embarrassing enough to be instructive.
The Woman Who Was Afraid of Drains
When I bought my foreclosure thirteen years ago, I was fairly clueless about DIY in general, and especially about plumbing. I genuinely believed — with the conviction of someone who had watched too many slapstick movies — that working on a drain might cause the house to flood.
You know the scene: someone opens a pipe under the kitchen sink and water blasts out at fire-hose pressure, ruining the kitchen and most of the surrounding neighborhood. I had absorbed that as roughly how plumbing worked, and so I just... avoided drains for a surprisingly long time.
What I eventually learned, and what should have been obvious, is that drains are not under pressure. Drain lines run on gravity — water goes in at the top and comes out at the bottom, and the only water in a drain is the water you just put there, already on its way out. You can remove a drain trap, peer into it, set it on the counter, and absolutely nothing dramatic happens.
The supply lines that bring fresh water to your faucets are a different story — those are under pressure, and if you unscrew one with the water still on, you'll have an exciting afternoon. But supply and drain lines are completely separate systems, easy to tell apart, and routed through different parts of the house.
The day I understood that distinction, plumbing became maybe 60% less terrifying.
The Copper Pipe Moment
Some time later, an ex-boyfriend came over to help me relocate the washing machine hookup, which required running a short new section of copper supply pipe. He knew how to solder and offered to show me.
Soldering copper pipe turned out to be one of the most satisfying things I've ever learned to do.
The process is a nice piece of applied physics. You clean the pipe end with emery cloth until it shines, apply flux (a paste that cleans the metal chemically and helps the solder flow), and heat the joint with a torch until the copper reaches temperature. Then you touch the solder to the joint — not to the flame — and watch it get pulled in. Capillary action draws the molten solder into the gap between the fitting and the pipe, flowing toward the heat and filling every microscopic space in a perfect seal.
It feels like a magic trick, but it's just physics: surface tension, thermal gradients, and the same capillary effect that pulls water up through tree roots and ink through paper. The solder disappears into the joint with a small bright ring, and when it cools, the pipe is going nowhere.
I'd recommend learning this skill to anyone with the slightest DIY inclination. It's not difficult, it's not expensive to practice, and the sense of accomplishment is genuinely outsized for the effort involved.
SharkBite Connectors, or: What I Got Wrong
SharkBite push-to-connect fittings are genuinely clever. You push copper pipe (or PEX) into one end, internal teeth grip it, and an O-ring seals it — no torch, no solder, no flux, no waiting. For repairs and retrofits, or any situation where you just need to get water flowing again without setting up for a full soldering session, they're great.
There's a learning curve, though. The pipe end has to be cut cleanly and squarely; any burr or debris and your seal isn't a seal, it's a slow drip behind your drywall. You also need to know which fitting is which, because SharkBite makes several types that look similar — couplings, elbows, tees, end caps — and not all of them are designed to come back apart.
I learned this the hard way. I was in the middle of a bathroom project, had the cold water line open, and wasn't ready to finish, so I capped it off temporarily with a SharkBite end cap. I figured I'd just pull it off when I was ready, having seen the little blue collar ring on other SharkBite fittings that releases them.
The end cap did not have this collar. It went on, and it did not come off, no matter what tools I tried.
What I eventually discovered — via increasingly panicked internet searching, and finally a photo to ChatGPT, which identified the fitting and explained the situation with infuriating clarity — is that some SharkBite end caps are one-way. Not permanent as in "rated for permanent installation." Permanent as in "that pipe ends here now and your input is no longer being accepted."
The project paused for considerably longer than planned.
This is the 80% problem with DIY: most of the knowledge will get you started with confidence, but the remaining 20% is what bites you at the worst possible moment. ChatGPT and similar tools have genuinely changed this equation — being able to photograph a fitting and ask "what is this, is it removable, and why won't it cooperate" is a capability I would have desperately wanted thirteen years ago.
PEX-B, and a Confession
PEX-B crimp connections have largely replaced copper soldering in my personal toolkit, and I'm at peace with that.
PEX-B is flexible cross-linked polyethylene tubing that connects with brass insert fittings and a crimp ring: you slide the ring on, push the fitting in, and crimp it with a ratcheting tool. It's fast, requires no heat source, works in tight spaces, and is extremely forgiving of the amateur plumber's greatest weakness, which is impatience.
The one caveat worth knowing is that the insert fittings reduce the pipe's inner diameter, which measurably restricts flow. For a short run to a single fixture, that's imperceptible. For a main line feeding multiple faucets, a showerhead, and a washing machine simultaneously, PEX-B with crimp fittings probably isn't the right choice. PEX-A with expansion fittings doesn't have this problem to the same degree, but that system is more expensive and less forgiving to install.
My copper soldering skills haven't become useless in the PEX era — actually the opposite. Transitioning from existing copper to new PEX runs often requires preparing the copper end cleanly, sometimes with a small soldered adapter, before the PEX pick-up point.
One more note: the PEX-B crimping tool and fittings aren't expensive to buy, but if you have a one-time project and don't want to add yet another tool to your collection, RVA Tech Help app subscribers can borrow mine locally with a refundable deposit. I'm still building out the in-app tool lending feature, so for now just reach out directly.
The Scariest Thing (Runner-Up: Turning the Water Back On)
Before I get to the actual scariest thing, an honorable mention to a moment every DIY plumber knows: turning the main water supply back on after you've done your work.
You've made your joints, pressed your fittings, crimped your rings, and everything looks right. Now you're at the shutoff, about to find out if it actually is right — or if there's a slow weep somewhere you can't see, a fitting seated at 95%, or a crimp ring that's a millimeter off. The pause before you turn the valve is tense.
Here's a tip I learned the hard way: have two people for this moment. One person at the main shutoff, one person stationed at the new work to watch. The watcher shouts immediately if anything weeps, so the person at the shutoff can close it again before a small problem becomes a wet one. Doing it solo means walking back and forth, and by the time you've made the round trip, thirty seconds of water pressure have already gone into your subfloor.
The Actual Scariest Thing
The actual scariest thing about plumbing — and I say this after thirteen years, copper soldering experience, and the SharkBite education — is a cheap faucet from a third-party seller on Amazon. Specifically, the threads.
Good plumbing fittings from established brands have precise, standardized threads. You apply plumber's tape, tighten to spec, and the connection seals. There's a knowable right answer.
Cheap import fittings have approximate threads, which means you're guessing with the plumber's tape. Too many wraps and you're fighting the fitting as you tighten — then a loud crack, and you're holding a piece of what was recently a faucet body. The soft mystery metal disintegrates under torque. Too few wraps and the connection looks fine right up until it starts producing one quiet drip per minute onto the cabinet floor.
One drip per minute sounds minor. It is not minor if it drips onto wood for six months. The silver lining: Richmond's water is heavily mineralized, and if you can tolerate the drip for a few weeks (container underneath, emptied regularly), the minerals will sometimes deposit into the microscopic gap in the thread seal and calcify it shut. Nature fixes your plumbing mistake, slowly, for free. When that happens, you celebrate.
What I'll Actually Help You With
To be clear: don't hire me for a major plumbing renovation. That's what licensed plumbers are for, and it's money well spent.
But if you want to change out a faucet, tackle a shower/tub combo where the showerhead never stops dripping cold water while you're trying to run a hot bath, or deal with a kitchen or bathroom drain that's been annoyingly slow for six months, those are projects I'm happy to take on together. We'll figure it out as a team, with YouTube and ChatGPT on standby, and a realistic expectation that it might take a little longer than the tutorial makes it look. That's how most good DIY actually goes.
Get in touch — RVA Tech Help serves Forest Hill, Westover Hills, Carytown, and surrounding Richmond neighborhoods. PEX-B crimping tool available to borrow for app subscribers.
— Johanna