It's that special time of year.

It is the month of October so that means two things, one, it is breast cancer awareness month and two, it is time to pump the septic system.  I know that I have mentioned this before here, but it is worth mentioning again since it causes me great distress each time.  There is just something about a big giant truck with the word SEPTIC painted across the side, sitting in your driveway with a huge hose pulled out across your lawn humming loudly while your crap gets pumped out of a buried concrete box.

a diagram for your viewing pleasure

I get the privilege of greeting this man once a year in October.  It is such a special time.  This year he came while the kids and I were outside playing.  I was just waiting for Noah to ask him what he was doing..."ohhhhh I am just here to suck all the poo out of your crap tank!"  Thankfully Noah spared me this one time.  I don't think there was any question what the man was doing in the side yard once the smell started to permeate.  Then you have to smile and wave as he gets into his truck full of horribleness.  "Have a nice day and enjoy your clean tank!  I will see you next year when you filthy animals fill it up again!"

No this is not "my" septic guy...talk about how creepy that would have been? 

Oh and you uppity town water/sewer people...your situation is pretty gross too.  I have seen where all yours ends up thanks to hubby's job building water treatment plants.  It's all gotta go somewhere.  But dude??? The crap that city folks flush down the toilet...really people?  Us septic tankers know better then that.  One tampon gets in there and you might be out two grand!

I am going to tell a little tale about a teenage girl who had a friend from the city.  All my life I was told we were not to flush any feminine hygiene products down our toilet.  It was drilled into our little heads.  That and the whole "if it's yellow let it mellow, if it's brown flush it down."  I knew the deal, I knew why, but that did not make it "cool" to discuss with your new friends.  Well I learned the hard way when this city sewer girl decided that along with feminine hygiene products she would also like to flush about a roll and a half of toilet paper down the poo pot.  Thankfully the offender had gone home when the trouble began.  See, usually septic houses don't have very strong water pressure.  Wads of toilet paper the size of puppies can easily get stuck in the pipes.  About 3 hours after the offender left we see water seeping out from under the door of the downstairs bathroom onto my parents brand new hardwood floors.  The story ended with my dad in the basement, large black trash bin under the pipes, gloves up to his elbows, while he manually scooped this sopping wet catastrophe out.  I of course was called down to bear witness.  Since then I have no problem explaining that if anybody dares to flush anything besides shit down my toilet they will be personally responsible for getting it out when it lodges into a nice little corner of the poop shoot pipe.

I won't mention names but I have also heard a tale about a twenty-something year old woman being called by her father because he had just had his septic system pumped and there was a alarming number of condoms found blocking up the wholes in the leach field piping.  Mind you she hadn't lived in her fathers house for a number of years and also denies she had any part in the high volume of prophylactics.  It just goes to show you that these septic folly's can follow you around.

 I swear that having a septic my whole life has built some serious character.  :) Well that sums up this beautiful post!