Showing posts from October, 2014

From Your Bowels To My Front Yard

Why oh why do I feel compelled to look under the lid of the septic? I should have learned my lesson the last time it was pumped. But no, I had to stand around and watch the whole process again. And by the time the nice young man with the brown stains on his jeans had just about vacuumed it dry and refilled it with water for a second pumping, I was almost dry heaving on the lawn. And the whole time I kept thinking, what if I drop something in there that needs to be retrieved? What if I tripped and fell into Lake Poopiecaca? Is that stench really not the septic at all and actually the result of my not having showered yet?

It's Not Fair!

You would think riding down the giant slide with Stiffy would be more dangerous than walking, given her twisted position on that burlap sack and our hand holding technique. However, I find walking to be quite treacherous, especially when there are no obstacles in my path. Thank goodness there was a first aid office at the fair grounds.