Last week, our septic system died. It had been giving us trouble for a while, making dyspeptic noises when we did the laundry or ran too much water through the pipes, draining too slowly, and generally seeming not well. You might say the whole thing crapped out on us. But shit happens….
We had someone come in to check it, and they told us the tank needed pumping. But when we had another someone come in to do that, they discovered that the tank, which is made out of cement, was broken, and had been KNOWN to be broken by the previous owners of the house, who had set up some weird makeshift patches over the broken section to hide or at least mitigate the problem. So, that was something of a pisser….
Then we had a third someone come in to remove the broken tank and replace it with one that, well, wasn’t broken. This was set to cost us a great deal of money — a butt-load, if you will. And they discovered that the broken tank was actually resting on a second tank, which was deeper in the ground. At which point, their already-substantial estimate ballooned further. That really stank. It felt like we were just flushing money down the toilet….
And actually, we had previously — as in just a couple of weeks ago — had to replace our hot water heater. Hence, you might say that the septic issues were our number two problem….
Okay, I’ll stop now with the terribly immature scatological humor. The septic problems were real — not something I made up to work in these awful jokes. Fortunately, the work is done, the expense has been borne, the bird feeders are back up, and the yard has been patched, though it will take a while for it to recover fully. The guys doing the tank replacement (who were great — professional, considerate, friendly, reliable, and determined to get the work done quickly) had to bring in some heavy equipment. There was nothing to be done about the lawn.
But that’s a small matter. Everything (for now) is working as it’s supposed to. You might even say that our problems are behind us now….
Enjoy your weekend!
Yes, my hiatus from writing was a byproduct of my grieving process. My return to writing is not an indication that my grief is spent. It never will be. I will grieve my darling Alex for the rest of my life. As I’ve said before, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Grief is an expression of love, and my love for her was limitless. But she wouldn’t want to be the reason I stopped writing forever, any more than she’d want me to give up on happiness or love or life because she’s gone.