Slogging out
I don't know why I bother to plan my days. I start out with a nice to-do list and inevitably something comes along to mess up my neat and tidy life. Take today and tree roots for instance. (Anyone with large trees and an older home knows what's coming, I bet.) It's now officially spring and spring means growing, green things. The trouble is, those growing green things tend to look for water and where better to find it than in the underground sewer pipes leading from our home. Over the weekend (it's always a weekend) the basement toilet began backing up. Thankfully, I had caught up with the laundry so there wasn't much on the floor. Also, the sewer service had a truck in the area and were able to come first thing this morning. And just as we suspected, it was tree roots clogging the line. The man who did the rodding showed me the large bag of tree roots they cleaned out. But, now I am left with a stack of fairly disgusting towels and a floor which needs a good mopping. I am practicing avoidance on a major scale...I've paid the bills, done some filing, the kitchen needs to be straighted up, blogging ..I'm sure I could avoid the basement for the entire day. But, I guess I will be good and at least start a load of yucky towels (on hot and a double or more rinse). I think I will first raid B.'s first aid kit he made for his first aid merit badge, it contains plastic gloves. Otherwise I could see myself trying to figure out how to use some sort of gardening implement to get the towels into the washer.
I also need to give a major award to M. and B. They sat for us on Saturday night so J. and I could go see a screening of the film, Operation Babylift, about the airlifting of orphans out of Vietnam during the war. (You can see a trailer for it here. It was very well done, see it if you have a chance.) But, anyway, right after we left, D. threw-up. He made it to the bathroom, so there wasn't any cleaning and it seemed it was just something that disagreed with him as he was fine afterward. Still, as a babysitter, it's not something one wants to deal with. Then, when M. went down to the basement to get something, she discovered the whole backed-up sewer pipe issue. Being resourceful young adults, they gathered all the old towels and mopped up as well as possible and also moved anything that might be in line for getting wet. It was perhaps not their easiest night of babysitting. But they managed on their own and allowed J. and I our first real date since before the babies were born, for which we are exceedingly grateful.
I also need to give a major award to M. and B. They sat for us on Saturday night so J. and I could go see a screening of the film, Operation Babylift, about the airlifting of orphans out of Vietnam during the war. (You can see a trailer for it here. It was very well done, see it if you have a chance.) But, anyway, right after we left, D. threw-up. He made it to the bathroom, so there wasn't any cleaning and it seemed it was just something that disagreed with him as he was fine afterward. Still, as a babysitter, it's not something one wants to deal with. Then, when M. went down to the basement to get something, she discovered the whole backed-up sewer pipe issue. Being resourceful young adults, they gathered all the old towels and mopped up as well as possible and also moved anything that might be in line for getting wet. It was perhaps not their easiest night of babysitting. But they managed on their own and allowed J. and I our first real date since before the babies were born, for which we are exceedingly grateful.
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She called a plumber, who did what plumbers do, and he pronounced the problem fixed.
The following day, my mother was sitting at the computer, writing a a funeral sermon. (My mother is in high demand locally as a clergy person who gives a great funeral. Everybody has their strengths, and giving a great send-off is my mom's. And while it isn't an intergral part to this story, I like to add it, because I think it adds character). Anyway, mom was writing the sermon she was going to give at the funeral, when every pipe in the house began to shake violently...which, as you can imagine, was pretty disturbing to her.
And then...there was an EXPLOSION in the backyard. And up from the ground came a geyser of...and no, I am not making this up...raw sewage.
It was, quite literally, a storm of poo. ALL OVER MY MOTHER'S ROSE GARDEN. And her fountain of St. Francis. And a good portion of the backyard.
Apparently, the tree roots had only been angered by the plumber the day before. She had to call Roto Rooter and the City, and, several hours later, a tree root roughly the size of Rhode Island was pulled from deep underground.
So...the point of this story is...I feel for you. Probably not as my mother, actually, feels for you.
How on earth did your mother ever get it all cleaned up? And how are her roses growing now?
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So...her roses bushes are looking pretty sad at the moment. But she seems hopeful they will recover.