A quite unexpected evening of gin and red wine on Sunday resulted in a hangover of Old Testament proportions on Monday morning. Taking the dog for an early-ish walk my nostrils were assailed by the lingering and unforgiving fragrance of dung from the newly dug vegetable plots. I'd just got back to the house and was reaching for the Milk Thistle and ten Nurofen when a blast of triple air horns signalled the arrival of something big.
I'd sodding forgotten that the men were due to arrive to empty our septic tank. The lorry above cost €300,000 new they proudly informed me. This job was going to cost, I knew straightaway. Down they came, the two of them, and went straight to the tank situated below the house. Whipping the two covers off there was a lot of head shaking and chin stroking. "Boss" one said, "come here can you?" My head was pounding and my stomach was reeling. Down I went. "This is not good, not good at all. Look at this, solid, and in the second chamber. Nasty. Very nasty indeed" I felt a strange whirling sensation as 'though I were about to die as I gazed uncomprehendingly at the contents of the tank and noted the concomitant stink of raw sewage. Please Lord, I thought, if you want to take me, take me now. Four hours later and €600 lighter they were gone, as were the contents of the tank. I'd paid the price alright.
8 comments:
Ouch. Time for a reed-bed filter, self-contained sewage treatment system, as used by all the best eco types. Nice truck 'though.
Nice blog, just what we like. Of course it reminds me of the emptying of the tank at the Northamptonshire branch of Ashley Towers, when two blokes arrived, stared gagging into the bottomless pit and never, ever, came back.
Hang on. You've just paid a handsome sum to have one lot of shit delivered, then probably a similar amount to get rid of another lot. I may be a towny, but is there not some blatantly obvious possibility here.
My thoughts precisely Toby. Wondered when one of us dared raise this delicate point. Perhaps Ron is working on the time-honoured principle of not crapping on your own doorstep. He may want to talk to Prince Charles. Time to recycle!
Eco! Eco! Eco! Canto, canto, canto!
Where's everybody gone? Suddenly, nobody's blogging or commenting anymore. They can't all be on holiday. Or have I been sent into a space / time / continuum thingy and it's actually 1968?
Good evening everyone. Fred Fibonacci here; keeping things in proportion.
As an international man of mystery, I have just spent the last two weekends in, respectively, Prague, and Dinan, Brittany. In both places I was thrilled not to be watched, nagged, bullied or patronised by the state. It was very noticeable.
For instance, in Prague the pedestrian crossings emit a low, rhythmic, ticking whilst on red. When they change to green, indicating a safe passage for pedestrians, the clicking speeds up. Neither noise is particularly loud or intrusive. It is, however, present, and far less nerve shredding than the bleeping, squawking crossings we have in the UK. Also, Darwinian theory would suggest that the Czech version works very well, the streets of Prague not being littered with dead foot-soldiers.
The other delight in Prague, and I Post as a non-smoker, was smoking in bars and restaurants. My travelling chums are all keen smokers. I have grown weary of perfectly jolly evenings constantly interrupted by the endless to-ing and fro-ing to the pavement for a gasper. No wonder the boozers here are on their knees. In Prague I found myself remembering the joys of uninterrupted conversation. We are all going to die. My smoking chums may die 'sooner' (than what?). Surely I should be allowed to talk to them for whole evenings at a stretch before they croak?
Unintended Consequences Part 101: pubs used to smell of pubs, now they smell of people.
I await contradiction: French state apparatus unwieldy and out of control, Czech Republic still taking baby steps to sophistication enjoyed by longer established democracies etc etc. Both places treated me like an adult. It was refreshing.
Superb Fred. I'm with you on all of that. Particularly the smoking in pubs malarkey. Don't get me going. I try to keep the sense of proportion you earnestly eschew, but this craven self-serving and misguided 'government' directive has done absolutely nothing to forward its spurious aims based on extremely bad science, other than to make boozers smell of Dettol. Bring back nicotine stained ceilings, overflowing ashtrays and pubs full of coughing smokers instead of them huddled against the rain outside. Still smoking. (Reaches for Capstan Full Strength, pours another Hendricks.)
Peter, I'm here! Not even particuarly busy and have had the same thoughts. Where is evertyone? You remain the stalwart Blogger we all turn to in times if need. I have been pretty busy firing off letters of protest about Pennbury 'Eco' town. 13 so far. On the great smoking in pubs debate that seems to have hijacked Ron's Blog the guys I feel sorry for are a pair of Pakistanis who ran Zaytun, a shisha pipe bar on Highfield Street. Gone oevrnight, presumably underground.
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