You see, we are pretty handy folks. We can do a Lot of things around the house, and typically find these things challenging, enjoyable and great learning experiences. There was an ominous looking wet spot along the walk on the outside wall. My husband, with his wonderful sense of anticipation, went out, shovel in hand. Ten minutes later, he came in and pronounced in what seemed a very grave voice, "We need a professional." A Professional. I tentatively replied, "What sort of Professional?" To this he replied, "I'm not really sure."
Now, few things make the warning bells go off in my head, but that did it for me. If he didn't know what to do, nor whom to call, this did not sound good. A little searching online answered the question. Oh. Plumbing. Goody.
To whit, we have met our local utilities management staff. Very nice. Then we spoke with a Professional. Very nice. Turned out, it was necessary to call a Team of Plumbers. Then two men showed up within an hour to survey the situation. Very nice again. The situation was outlined. EW. Not so nice.
It was Saturday, but they dug a trench by hand on the side of the house. Four hours later and we knew the full story. ICK. Again. They found all of problem, which turned out to be most of the problem, because parts of it are still revealing aspects of said problem, every day of this mystery. It was a Large Problem by our standards. Didn't seem to faze these amazing men on the scene. Oh, and if I haven't said so, let me be quite clear that this problem involves a Smell of such defining characteristics that there can be no doubt as to the nature of said Problem, or the lingering issues.
I did not take pictures last Saturday. I tried to leave town. Suffice it to say that this was not anything I wanted to deal with in any way, whatsoever. Ever. In that moment, I never appreciated MEN in the same way before. Total nonchalance, like this just happens all the time and it's No Big Deal. I was so happy to see that, I slipped on my sneakers and POOF! was gone faster than the Invisible Man.
More visits during the week. White pipes delivered. 100 feet! People arrived en masse, all with a white pickup truck, spray cans in 5 different colors, painting stripes in the yard, down the driveway. All while I chatted on the phone, sitting on the front steps. My only job was to remember what my Mom taught me as a child. When MEN come to do things, have lots of cold things to offer them to drink. I took here words to heart and on Friday, went to the grocery store.
Saturday morning, one week later. Here we go. The Big Job. It took a full 8 hours, and my hubby worked until just past dark trying to rake, spread and prepare to get some grass seed down as it just might rain today.
|The trench early in the day|
|All the men held a meeting under the house??|
|Filling it in. Note the man just at the front of the shovel. He's 6'4" tall!|
|Johnny makes working this machine look easy.|
So that was yesterday. Mind you, I went shopping for HOURS. Those who know me well know that it had to be fairly crazy for me to actually resort to shopping as an escape! And for those who really know me well and are dying to know....I bought some socks. Then I people watched.
There are still about 4 more hours of work to be done....by the Pros. And it is true. Poop really does run down hill. I just didn't know that it is a ratio of 1/4" per linear foot. Not that I see using that information again in the future. Near or Far.
Thanks Guys. Thank you for the MEN in my life who know things I don't want to be bothered with or by, and thank you for knowing how to use these big pieces of machinery. I can honestly say that I don't think I will ever walk by the Plumbing isle at the local hardware without some quiet moment of deep Reverence. And that's all I have to say about that.