Encountering God Behind a Toilet
That is a shocking title; perhaps even offensive to some.
Several years ago our toilet tank broke and needed to be replaced. I am not a plumber, but I am intelligent, resourceful and not afraid of a little work. (Can you hear the pride there? That's going to be relevant later.)
Our home had a disconnected toilet the same size sitting in the basement.
Why did we have a spare toilet?
No clue. It came with the house.
I explored the spare and discovered I could remove the tank and use it to replace the broken one upstairs.
The removal was a piece of cake. Within just a few minutes I had removed the nuts from the mounting bolts and triumphantly carried my trophy upstairs. Carefully, I set the tank down outside the bathroom. Feeling strong and rugged and manly; I - the master of my domain - marched through the open door, prepared to wage war against the offending loo. I sported nothing more than channel locks, testosterone and a "can do" attitude.
For those of you who have never attempted such a project, an essential step in the process is sitting off the valve and disconnecting the water supply.