Might as well ramble on...

While the urge to blog is still with me, I might as well take advantage of it.

Our lesson in school today (oops, wrong blog!) is all about septic tanks. Unlike the public schools, we do not believe in sheltering our children from life in the real world.

Yesterday, real life intruded on an already hectic and frustrating day. I'd been suspecting some septic tank issues for a few weeks now, but my concerns were dismissed. After all, what do I know about plumbing and spetic tanks? Besides, hadn't I read all about the proper care and feeding of septic systems over a decade ago, and hadn't I been carefully observing a regimen guarenteeing the best health for our system? And wasn't the fact that our septic tank had not caused us any problems in over a decade proof that my system worked? So why was I worrying?

Somehow there seemed to be a lapse of logic in all that. (Male logic! that oxymoron will have to be the subject of some future entry...) Yesterday, when our toilets steadfastly refused to flush and one rebelliously decided to back up, just to make a point, it became impossible to ignore the obvious truth any longer.

Eleven years is too long to go without servicing one's septic tank, especially in a household of eight people---no matter how large the tank and how diligent the homemaker might be in avoiding bleach, pouring Bac-out down the drain, and trying to keep her septic tank happy.

Once we called the local septic service, we were faced with our next dilemma---where exactly is the tank? We had a general idea, but attempts at probing revealed nothing. The hour grew late. Digging became out of the question.

Early this morning, our hero (in the form of a septic tank guy) arrived at the door,asking us questions about service history and then cheerfully groaning and citing the latest results of an indepth Stanford study (they study septic tanks?!) before setting off in search of our tank. This whole process has fascinated our young scholars, and they are now rapidly becoming experts on all things septic while observing the adventure taking place in the front yard.

I'm starting to think I might be smelling something but, then again, it might be my imagination.