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Make that de-turd. The septic tank got pumped out today. It's a huge tank, so the pumping took quite a while, and has cost quite a bundle. The system passed inspection, for now, but with only a satisfactory rating, and if the house is to be sold without another inspection (which the system is only marginally likely to pass) the sale will have to be completed within one year.
The leach lines are about fifty years old, which is about as long as a leach field can be expected to function. Rebuilding it would be very costly. The good news is that the tank itself is large enough to satisfy the current code, and is solidly built, so it has another fifty years or more of life ahead of it... or sewage to be dumped into it.
The feral cats made themselves scarce not only during the inspection and pumping, but for a few hours after. They finally turned up wanting dinner, and of course they did their own inspection of the two places where the tank access lids were buried. It's now freshly turned earth, and the cats will undoubtedly be treating these areas as their own dumping grounds. The rose bushes will probably be deprived of cat fertilizer for several days.
As for the tank, this is the first time it's been pumped out in ten years, and during that time there were always at least three people living in the house. If I were to stay here, and continue to live alone, it would quite likely take me the rest of my life to refill it. Sort of a disgusting thought, really. It's like a foul form of hoarding.
OK, I can sense my imagination moving in a particular direction, so I have to stop writing before I get flushed away by a load of stool-related puns. But, oh, the urge is so strong!
The leach lines are about fifty years old, which is about as long as a leach field can be expected to function. Rebuilding it would be very costly. The good news is that the tank itself is large enough to satisfy the current code, and is solidly built, so it has another fifty years or more of life ahead of it... or sewage to be dumped into it.
The feral cats made themselves scarce not only during the inspection and pumping, but for a few hours after. They finally turned up wanting dinner, and of course they did their own inspection of the two places where the tank access lids were buried. It's now freshly turned earth, and the cats will undoubtedly be treating these areas as their own dumping grounds. The rose bushes will probably be deprived of cat fertilizer for several days.
As for the tank, this is the first time it's been pumped out in ten years, and during that time there were always at least three people living in the house. If I were to stay here, and continue to live alone, it would quite likely take me the rest of my life to refill it. Sort of a disgusting thought, really. It's like a foul form of hoarding.
OK, I can sense my imagination moving in a particular direction, so I have to stop writing before I get flushed away by a load of stool-related puns. But, oh, the urge is so strong!
