The very first "challenge" we faced as homeowners started out as a minor inconvenience.
We'd been living with a funny little problem for a couple of weeks before the picture to the left. Our bathroom sink would slowly backup over night. We'd cup out the water in the morning and by the time we got home in the evening it would be almost ready to spill over.
And we just kind of dealt with it. Maybe out of laziness, or the fear that it may be something more than just a giant hairball, we made dumping stank water into our tub part of our morning routine. Right after brushing teeth, and before brushing our teeth again because we can't remember if that was the cup we used to dump out the over flow.
So we went out to eat. And after everyone had just enough, we let Mike Moak and Mike Pounds loose on our bathroom. The beers were there when they got there
Then it got worse. Much Much worse. I'm not watering the grass there. There isn't any grass in that picture, but what is in that picture is sewage. Lots and lots of sewage coming out of the ground like I struck oil in the 1600 block of College Avenue. It turns out the pipes that lead out of our house to the sewer were put together by a kindergarten class who liked right angles and glue. They also liked putting dirt, beer bottles, children toys, and what looked like a class project time capsule in there while they were at it. There was only one thing we could do to remedy this problem. DIG!!
We found a maze of pvc only trained labs would enjoy. With that we found a tough decision. Do we go at ourselves, or do we call in professionals. We made the obvious choice.
We called in Tim.
From these pictures, you can see that we clearly knew what we were doing.
So on our (Sara and I, Not Tim and I) first anniversary, I found myself standing in a half a foot of flies, crap, and pvc trying to figure out how to make shit go down hill. That can be a tall task. But we had a plan and Sara had promised pizza and chicken wings for a job well done for incentive. Maybe even some wedding cake.
Tim and I thought we'd get at this project in pieces. We'd take a part of the pipe off, replace it and move to the next piece. We pulled on that first piece of pipe and the entire tangle came off. Broke off like a chopstick. In our confusion I said "Shit," in exasperation. Tim Said "Shit," pointing out that in fact shit was coming out of the pipes. We tossed the poop tube as far as we could and looked at each other in bewilderment as the reality of the job hit us much as the horrendous smell that suddenly permeated the yard.
But, we made it work. Tim and I untangled the pvc mess left for us and made it work. Shit now does roll down hill at the Lynch household and that is all you can ask for.
Here is Little Dami in a bucket. Everything that kid does is cute. Just sitting in a bucket is cute when he does it.
