We came home from 3 weeks away to the news from our housesitter that we had a leak through the living room ceiling. Probably from the upstairs hallway bathroom, though she wasn't certain.
We live in a brick tudor house built in the early 1900s and *nothing* is standard.
Yesterday, the plumber spent quite some time here replacing a broken toilet and its attendant piping. This morning, things were still leaking. Sigh.
The contractor is here cutting holes in the ceiling, trying to track down where the water is coming from. Oh, for xray vision. It feels like he's doing exploratory surgery on my poor house.