Last night I thought my head was going to explode.
It started off innocently enough, with an experiment in roasting a whole chicken. That process, while easy enough, set off a chain reaction of events, the first of which was getting tomato sauce on my white shirt. Last week it was ink on the same damn shirt....so I'm learning a lot about stain removal lol. Anyway, I changed clothes, pretreated the shirt, and threw it in the washer.
As the washer is running, Vic and I hear some odd gurgling in pipes and a few other strange noises. The gurgling appeared to be coming from the kitchen sink pipes, but there was nothing there. We also checked the washer hoses and they were fine too. So, we shrugged it off.
Fast forward about half an hour. I happen to walk into the master bathroom and find the toilet bowl full of water....and stuff (the smelly kind). Water is also on the floor. YAY! I immediately retreat from the stench, to the other toilet in the guest bathroom, where I find the toilet full of water and possibly urine. Great. Just great.
Now, perhaps we should have seen this coming. After all, the toilet in our master bathroom has been acting up for a couple months--not always flushing fully, even for just urine. But, blithely assuming all would be well and that eventually we would just pour some Rid-X down the toilet, we procrastinated and that worked out about as well as it usually does.
Vic calls the septic service, which apparently has an after-hours message service, so we have to wait for a call back. In the meantime, I pull the chicken out of the oven and set it on top of the stove. Being the genius I am, I attempt to take the metal lid off the roasting pan.....with my bare hands! Hastily replacing the lid, I yell in shocked surprise. I mean, who would've thought a metal handle would get hot after being in the oven for 90 minutes? Vic asks what's wrong and I have to confess my idiocy. I don't know where the hell my brain went. As my fingers begin to stiffen (they don't hurt much....yet), I decide to open the carrots and put them in the microwave before bothering to run my hand under cold water.....yet another genius move. After all, why NOT delay first aid? Now I am essentially one handed. Either my hand is soaking in water or (once I remember we have them) sitting on an ice pack for the remainder of the evening.
Vic's parents show up--to help, ostensibly, but really just to listen to our septic story and further distract us as we finish cooking. However, by now, I have to pee....which, being 9 months pregnant, is never a remote concern. I ask Vic to drive me to his grandfather's house so I can use the toilet, leaving his parents at our house without so much as telling them we are leaving. He and I walk outside, and right then, the septic service calls back. So he stands there, talking on the phone, while I am shifting from foot to foot, and blowing on my burnt fingers, which are stinging like mad due to lack of cold water (I hadn't yet remembered the ice packs). So I'm making faces like "let's get in the DAMN CAR!!!" and Vic, who is just trying to concentrate on the phone call, is waving me off with a harassed look on his face. This did not go over well, to say the least. Finally he gets in the car and drives me over to the other house while still talking on the phone. Aaaahhhh....sweet relief!
After we return to the house (septic guy will arrive in an hour), Vic talks to his parents for awhile as I sit inside and nurse my hand. Finally, he comes inside and says he excused himself. Translation: he told them to go away. We decide we might as well eat the food we cooked. Vic carves the chicken on a cutting board. Tomato sauce is EVERYWHERE...it's the recipe's fault, he says. Can we clean it up? Not easily, as we can't run any water! So we use several trees in paper towel form to mop up the tomato sauce and clean the counter, which would stain otherwise.
It's now about an hour after we finished cooking, so thank god for microwaves!! Vic ends up cutting up my meat for me, since I can't use my left hand and it's not quite tender enough for just a fork. Poor guy--as if he isn't stressed enough, I require dinner service :b
The septic guy arrives in due course, pumps the tank, which wasn't full, btw, and cleans out the portion of the main line that he can reach with the hose he has on hand. He tells us if we have any more issues, it's a clog further up in the main line and we'll have to call a plumber. After then relieving us of $250, he's on his way.
Clean up time. I had just cleaned the bathrooms the DAY BEFORE. Grrrrr.....but at least it made it quick and easy to wipe down the toilets, tubs, and mop the floors. Not fun, but easy. By now, I have to use the bathroom again (I'd already taken a 2nd trip to his grandfather's house), but thankfully, we have the joy of working toilets again! This is a convenience you never fully appreciate until it's gone.
After doing my business, I flush the master bath toilet....and it doesn't fully flush. Just like it'd been doing the past few months. So, while the immediate crisis is past, the problem is not resolved!! I have been able to run the washing machine without incident, but I know it's just a matter of time before I lose my toilets again.
Today, after much research, Vic has decided he will rent an electric sewer eel so he can clear the clog himself. I have grave reservations, but if it works, at least we won't have to pay a plumber! And if it doesn't, I'll have inspiration for another post ;)
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