As if putting every blessed thing we own into a box, and then cleaning every blessed space where those things sat isn’t enough fun, we’ve had visitors to the back yard today.
We have a septic system since our neighborhood can’t get town water or sewer services, sitting as it does on the base of the town’s small mountain. We truly love our well water, but our feelings about having a septic system have been pretty noncommittal. Those feelings took a major turn south today.
We failed Title 5, the statute that regulates the installation, use, and sale of septic systems in our state. Here we thought we’d breeze right through it, what with just the two of us living here and then being away for the bulk of the winter, with not one flush since January 1st.
The happy news: our tank is deteriorating and the pipes leading to the leach field are crumbling. As it was, we thought we might make a tiny profit off of the sale of this house – maybe enough for a good dinner out, or maybe new flip flops for the beach.
Now we’ll be entertaining large men and their larger machines as they excavate the yard along with whatever cash we’d hoped to spend on something frivolous like food.