The highlight of Sunday was not the point where I found myself lying flat on the ground with my arm down a sewer pipe. And yet, that lovely moment led to me starting Monday with a 7am call to several plumbers before finding one that would come out to the house and not charge me $50 to “Take a look and decide what needs doing.”
Caleb, the plumber, came on time to evaluate the clogged pipe situation. We stood in the backyard chatting about this and that; mostly about the weather and how this is 100% humidity is mild for a Tennessee summer. He looked at the drain, very nicely listened to me explain in my highly technical terms about the “whatchamacallit” not draining and that we used the “snake thingy to try to unclog it but that there were all sorts of roots and stuff” that I couldn’t pull out. He quoted a price of $$$ that was only slightly eyebrow rising. “Let me call my husband.” I said. But Husband didn’t answer. So I gave Plumber Caleb the go ahead and went back inside. All was good for about ten minutes. Plumber Caleb was getting his stuff out of his truck and I was inside in the air conditioning pretending to clean the house. And then I got the panic phone call from husband “Stop him!” $$$ was too much for the job. “I’ll just get a snake from the store and do it myself.” he said. I hate husband at times like this. Like when he tells me to call someone to do something and I do and then I have to be the one to go outside and break up with the poor guy who has already hauled his heavy stuff off his truck and down our very steep hill to the smelly sewer pipe. Plumber Caleb didn’t take it well. I told him it wasn’t him. It was husband. He still looked like I’d kicked his puppy. What followed was about twenty minutes of awkward standing about while he loaded his truck up, wrote up an estimate to do the work “Once Mr. Husband has decided he wants our help.” Plumber Caleb then filled in the paperwork I needed to sign saying I’d rejected him and all he had to offer. Breaking up sucks. Not being able to wash the loads of dishes sucks. Humidity that makes you always feel like you’re in a sauna sucks. I decided a shower was necessary to restore my mood because at least the shower/toilet sewer section wasn’t clogged. Midway through my showering off the sweat and rejection, the dog started barking. I wrapped towels around my hair and myself and went to see whom it was. A friend had sent me a box of goodies that Mr. Postman brought to the door. Tigger the Dog was going mental. When I peered around the hallway to tell him to leave it outside, my towel fell off. It was at this point that I realized that I’d cut the back of my ankle shaving and had left a trail down the hallway. Thankfully, Mr. Postman didn’t get a look at anything good though he's got a story to tell over the mail sort today. And he still left Tigger the Dog a treat despite me screaming at him repeatedly, “SORRY, I CAN’T COME TO THE DOOR.” as I fumbled my towel back into place and hobbled down the hallway trying to keep my bloody foot off the floor all while as Tigger the Dog barked her head off. Joy. Hours later, I came home to husband and two new plumbers digging out the offending drain. Wanting no part of his shenanigans, I went inside only to be told that he’d volunteered me to dig out the rest of the drain before they came back to fix it today. He wasn’t joking. Husband volunteered me to dig out a section of dirt about six wide by four deep in the 100 % humidity because he didn’t like Plumber Caleb’s quote for $$$. I was the one who had to do the breaking up and now I was the one who was going to have to do the digging? Ugh. I have to go outside now and dig. I am not thrilled at the prospect but I’m choosing to look for the silver lining here. It’s hard to find a silver lining when I know I’ll literally be knee deep in mud in minutes but here goes: ONE: The New Plumbers broke the pipe to get to the clog – which was the plan when they figured they couldn’t get the snake to the clog. They managed to get the roots out and the roots had only clogged up about two feet of pipe not the possible fifty feet they could have. TWO: Fifty feet would have been thousands and thousands of dollars to dig. I would have had to fly home to California to avoid getting volunteered for that job. THREE: While I’m digging, I’m sure to get more exercise than I normally would on an average Tuesday. And, it rained last night so I won’t need the pick ax. And, when the shovel and my boots become solid with mud, I will have weights challenging my every move. And, when I sweat because of the humidity and then wipe my face with my muddy glove, it will be like one of those expensive mud baths and mud facials that I’ll be getting for free. FOUR: Because they got the roots out, I was able to wash both loads of dishes that have been sitting dirty since last Wednesday. FIVE: It was not the toilet sewer section. It was the dishwasher poop free section. SIX: I think we have finally established that Husband is his own being and that he will be the one to hire and break up with all folk he wants or doesn’t want to work on the house. I have fired myself from that duty forever. SEVEN: I have one more thing to add to the list of things Husband owes me for. Of course, his list is likely to be longer… This might just make us even. Sigh. EIGHT: Even is good. NINE: Okay, now I'm just stalling. Off I go.
2 Comments
allie
8/14/2014 04:55:51 am
thought i'd reply here since you'd have to cheat to see it on FB. You're very welcome for the goodie box & i hope you got all the blood off the floor!
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ej
8/14/2014 04:58:47 am
Allie - the blood has blended in with the old pee stains from the former owners many, many pets. I can't WAIT until we pull that nasty carpet up and put down wood floors. Nas-ty!
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AuthorMy name is ej. I'm a girl. I say that because with the short hair and the short initials, folks aren't always sure. More brilliant insights to who I am in About me Archives
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