About 7:15 yesterday morning as SWMBO braves the vagaries of our bilge pump-powered shower, I heard the now infamous words, “Honey, the water isn’t draining…!”
Phooey, thinks I, it’s too soon to have to empty the holding tanks – I only did it a week ago. I check the notoriously unreliable electronic gauges and they both indicate ‘Full’ tanks. Damn.
Wrong conclusion, Dawg.
So I quickly hatched the scheme to take off about 25 gallons of grey water into the “blue boy” so my wife can finish her ablutions.
Bad choice #1.
I pull the stinky slinky hose out and make up to the waste tank and pull the valve open. And all Hell breaks loose – the portable tank end of the hose separates from the connection fitting and I have 100 gallons of sewage gushing onto the ground.
Stink – “oh my”, as George Takei would say. So much for driving the boss to work. I’m covered from head to toe in effluent, gagging at the stench, and still have to empty the portable tank into the septic system.
First trip is nothing too exciting. Since I’m already slimed, I decide to take care of the current supply of black waste water, too.
Bad choice #2.
I make up the spare slinky hose to the portable tank and open the valve and wouldn’t you know it, that hose separates from the trailer end fitting and now I have raw sewage all over the ground, the portable tank and me, too. Gag me to the max. George Takai has a clothes pin on his nose and he’s doing the Wave of Shame we all used as kids at me and my predicament. I have no choice but to try to dilute the pollution. Wouldn’t you know it …
Bad choice #3.
The Rule 800 bilge pump chooses that very moment to give up the ghost and stop pumping.
I may be obtuse, but even I know when Murphy has hit a grand slam between my eyeballs with a 2x4. There’s nothing for it but grab some buckets, wade into the lake up to my waist to wash the merde off me and start the dilution* process by manual bucket brigade, with me being the only brigade member to show up for the party.
My wife missed all of this, having found it necessary to take the truck and drive herself to work (she hates doing that, preferring to apply make-up and prepare herself mentally while I negotiate with the vehicle-bound terrorists that pass themselves off as early morning commuters).
An hour or two later, I have all of the various hoses repaired, the area around the trailer where all of this effluvia was discharged has been diluted as much as I dare (didn’t want the trailer sinking out of sight in suddenly saturated ground, now did I) and I have cleaned up enough that I can contemplate drinking my first cup of coffee of the day, take my pills and figure out my next mistake, er, adventure.
Walked the dog, only beating him a half dozen times for trying to roll in the smelly stuff and then bowed to the inevitable – I donned my breathing apparatus and mowed the lawn. It is too bad the mask only filters out pollen, molds and dust, or I’d have used it to keep the sewage stench at bay…
So that was my day. How was yours?
* ”The solution to Pollution is Dilution” was one of those little catch phrases that stuck with me from wastewater management class.