Day #1———Gravity.  It’s a genuine force.  It’s reliable.  Lord knows I know that from horseback riding and how much the ground beckons me.  And how it comes up to greet me so rapidly.  Gravity plays a role in our everyday lives.  It’s there when we want it.  It’s there when we don’t.  It’s there when we don’t even think about it.  It makes things roll down hill.

We bought this house as a fixer-upper almost 25 years ago.  I’m sad to say, it’s still a fixer-upper.  So much to fix.  So many projects.  We are a low maintenance family.  The septic has never worked well………..ever.  So we have acclimatized & plotted & planned laundry loads, dishwasher runs, showers and toilet flushes.  But a bad septic?………………….hard to avoid………………..really hard to avoid………it’s bad on so many sensory levels.

And the old adage of “things” rolling down hill.  Well I’m here to say this family has been at the base of “that” hill for almost 25 years.  We are easy-going and stock-holders in multiple bleach companies, but enough is enough.  We are tired of looking at life here at home through rose (?) colored glasses.

We’ve become really good friends with a wonderful, family-owned septic company over the years.  We are into their second generation of ownership.  We have family chats when they show up to pump out our septic tank.  We have a memorial flag stone marking where the tank is so it’s easier to “sound” the tank’s location in order to dig for the lid.  We recognize returning employees and ask about their families while standing on the edge of the septic pit watching the familiar big black hose bubble & gurgle its way back to their tanker truck.  But this year we’ve had backups in the dry season.  It’s a genuine indication and foreboding omen that we will be needing goggles and snorkels in the next few weeks if we don’t act………….and act fast.

So a while ago we identified an envelope and started saving for a new septic system WITH a lift station (we’ve never had a lift station before———it will be a new luxury).  The lift station will artificially invent a hill (for people living in Florida who are basically living below sea level & the water table) to pump the “fluid” up so it can “percolate” down & through (like bad coffee) and then go somewhere……………I’m really not sure where that somewhere is.  But as long as that “somewhere” is not in our sunken shower, our bath tub, or on our bathroom floors………..then I’m content.  Ta!  Da!  I’m doing a happy dance.

Septic systems are pricey.  Not the kind of cash you can collect easily with quarters in a pickle jar.  More like a garage filled with pickle jars.  But we finally have accumulated  the appropriate amount of filled pickle jars.  Trum!  Ta!  Da!  (Festive little dance occurring right now with streamers & confetti.)

We can actually have people over for dinner.  We can be social.  We can have friends.  Maybe even have some parties.  People can come over and actually be able to defecate…………….! Tra!  La!  Tra!  La!

So last week they (the nice Septic Company) delivered a big cement box.  It sat in the middle of our driveway.  We were able to circle it and poke it admiringly.  Ah, we have a new whatever it is…………….sigh………….we finally have one!  It’s ours………all ours…………..whatever it is…………..  Then they came again the beginning of this week, but it was too wet to do anything (torrential rains).  And they needed to come back with a bigger piece of equipment to pick up the cement thing and move it to it’s new permanent, special place.

Today the wonderful septic people arrived again with a bigger, green & yellow piece of equipment and dug a big, big hole while other men stood around leaning on their shovels and equally admiringly watched as the man with the backhoe lowered the cement thingie into its big, new, forever hole.  It was like a Fourth of July fireworks celebration with everyone going———“ooooh” & “aaaaaah”.  I was amongst them.  Sigh.  Our cement thingie has been ensconced.  Sigh again.

Then the crew of a half dozen left.  Who knows what is in store for tomorrow.  I shall wait with abated breath.