The Silence of The Pheasants

We are half way through another week before I've even really got going with it.  H2 went back to school on Monday feeling much better, thank goodness.  The dark, chilly mornings are making it harder to get out of bed and all I want to do is to pull the covers over my head and ignore it all.  The dark evenings are getting longer and longer and there is nothing on the television worth staying up for, so the children and I eagerly await 9pm, which we consider to be a respectable time for two teenagers and a grown woman to hit the hay without it seeming too sad and pathetic. Love my bed!

I fully intended to check the septic tank on Saturday as I suspected we had a blockage somewhere, but procrastination won out and I thought of lots of other things to do instead and then it got too dark to look anyway.  But on Sunday I had the feeling that if I didn't investigate then I would regret it.  H1 was my reluctant volunteer and the two of us girded our loins and discussed our plan of action.  The lid of the man hole is extremely heavy and we just couldn't lift it up far enough to see down the hole.  H1 had the brilliant idea of throwing stones down it and then judging by the sounds they made as to what state the hole was in.  He did so and we heard them hit dry concrete.  Relief flooded through me. It was clean and empty; oh thank Heavens for that.  I shouted to Pea to run some taps and flush the loo so I could hear if the water was running through OK.  She did so, twice, but no water rushed through the man hole on it's way to the septic tank.  My recent euphoria took a nose dive as I realised the blockage was further back near the house.  I located the drain and discovered it was full of dank water and leaves, so I dug it out but the water didn't go down.  Not a good sign.  H1 happened to glance down and saw another man hole cover, partially hidden by leaves.  I knew what I'd find when I lifted the lid and sure enough I did.  It was full of....well, you know what comes out of bathrooms and goes underground.  Yup, loads of it, all swimming about in the manhole.  There goes my quiet Sunday morning.  H1 and I drove off to the hardware store and purchased a set of rods complete with screw attachment and a round rubber bung thingy.

Back at home, we kitted ourselves out with gloves and wellies and got down to the task in hand.  H1 poked the rods into the mess and located the outlet hole, accompanied by us both screwing our faces up and making elaborate heaving sounds.  It is a vile job.  I took over at this point and started pulling the rods in and out in order to get things moving a bit.  Sure enough, after a moment or two, the sloppy soup bubbled and gurgled and the level began to drop. Yes! We'd done it.  From then on it was just a case of swilling plenty of water down the hole and pushing the rods through to keep it going.  H1 did a brilliant job of going back and forth with buckets of water and eventually we got it as clean and sparkly as is possible to get a manhole.  At that point I began to pull the rods back out and to my utter disbelief, some of the rods and the screw bit  had come off in the pipework somewhere.  Believe me, the air was blue with my foul language.  I was so upset.  I had tried to do the job by myself, rather than bothering my landlord and I had done it, but then it had gone wrong.  Oh for God's sake, why? Why? Why?  I could have screamed.

I stomped about a bit and Pea made me a cup of tea to calm me down.  We spent the afternoon at mum's house and my brother, his wife and their little girl and baby boy were there too, so I consoled myself by playing on the floor with my baby nephew and forgot about septic tanks.  The following day I contacted my landlord who came out this morning and sorted everything out for me.  The best bit was when I was relating my story to him and his said 'You've got your own rods?' in that completely awe-struck way that little boys have when they play a new Star Wars game; 'It's got Light Sabres!' Wow, big deal.  'You're a bit of an action girl, then?'  he said.  Um, no not really, said I.  At least not out of choice anyway.

After he had fished out my rods from the bowels of the underground pipe system and laid them reverently on the ground, he was on his way and I was filled with such happiness as you get when a horrid job is out of the way.  I took the dogs a walk to relish in the new found freedom of lightness of heart.  I could hear the shouts and guns before I got to the end of the lane.  There is a small private woodland close by and there was a shoot going on.  There are no end of pheasants in the woods and fields round here and I love to hear the drum of wings and call of the males when they are staking claim to their territory and mates.  It sounded as if the beaters were doing a good job and earning their wages as the guns popped and men whooped and called constantly.  It is part of the country life that I love, but wholesale slaughter of beautiful birds is a tough one to deal with.  However, they will be sold and eaten so their lives will not have been wasted.  Better that than being mown down on the lanes by cars going too fast.

The homeward walk was quieter; no guns, no calls and no birds.  Flocks of geese and lapwings had flown over me calling in confusion.  They probably got scared by the noise and didn't know what to make of it.  I looked up and sent them a wish on the wind that they would arrive safe at their destination and be with their families.

While cleaning the bathroom this afternoon, I discovered that there is brown water coming out of the taps.  That's not happened before!  I rang my landlord again who in turn rang the water board.  Apparently there is some work going on along the main road which has caused the brown water.  As the main road is rather a long way away, it could take a while for the water to run clear again.  In the meantime though, we have to boil the water to drink, but it's OK for showering and washing.  Wonder what the children will make of that!   At least I can have a cup of tea, so all is not lost.

Do you like my new lamp?  I have wanted one for this corner since we moved here and I saw this yesterday while finishing my Christmas shopping, so after hopping about from foot to foot for a bit wondering if I should buy it, I did!  My brother gave me the little table and I used some of my old books as a stand.  The cookery book belonged to my nan and the gardening book was her brother's.  I bought the Charles Dickens book last year from Plas Newydd.  I like the look and no one would be in any doubt as to who lives in this house with all the books about!

H1 had a few exams this week; just internal ones to see how much they've learned so far.  In Tech Gwyb ( IT in English), he managed to get an F minus.  He didn't say much about it but casually dropped into conversation that he was having to re-sit one of his exams.  He complained that the whole marking system was a waste of time, as the teacher had marked something wrong even though he had it written down in his book the way she told them to do it.  Never mind, I said, just do your best.  Yesterday he excitedly told me that he had his results and he'd got an A.  How on earth did you manage to go from an F minus to an A? I asked.  I revised this time, he said.

Therein lies the answer!

I hope you don't have to mess about with mess and that your children revise for exams! Have a lovely evening and thank you for reading. xxx