Honeydippers

Warning: this is not a cooking post.

 

We had our friendly, local honeydippers visit this morning.

They’re the guys who open up the septic tank out back, shove a big hose down into the Stygian Abyss, and pump it all out.

Being urbanites, this was new to us. (I have a vague memory of hearing about the Wyoming place having its tank pumped out once).

It all started with the shower downstairs not draining as quickly as normal.

Then there was this glugging noise coming out of the sink.

The toilet downstairs started to drain very slowly.

Then strange stuff started bubbling back up the toilet.

And finally, back into the shower.

Our intrepid cleaning lady (my Avon lady too, btw) came on Thursday and brought her husband along so I asked him if he would have a look.

He sent Scott to buy a plunger.

It didn’t help.

We called our very friendly, very nice plumber Mr. Saturday Night.  

His real name is Mr. Szombathy (pronounced sort of like “somebody” and it’s a Hungarian name that means Saturday).

He has been a huge help in the past, with our water pump, the leaky pipe coming from the washing machine, and he installed our new dishwasher.

All for very reasonable prices.

He took one look at the toilet and the shower and told Scott to get the key to the septic tank.

They had a look inside and he immediately knew the problem was a full septic tank.

It was backing up into the lower bathroom.

Yikes.

He called the sewage pumpers, who were not able to accommodate us until today.

We spent the weekend keeping as much as possible from dumping anything down the drains.

And we fell out of bed very early this morning, expecting them at 7:00 a.m.

We learned a few things.

Our tank is five cubic meters. We have a one-cubic-meter water butt and I remembered how stunned I was that thing filled completely after one good rainstorm.

It’s a relatively small tank, because this place was built to be only a vacation/weekend getaway without permanent residents.

When you first open it up, the tank doesn’t smell much at all.

It’s only after the pump’s been going that the odor gets a little pungent (no breakfast for us this morning).

You can’t predict when you’ll need to empty it again (we don’t know how recent the last emptying took place, except it was before we moved here, 2009).

Our wonderful Mr Saturday Night (My cousin Gene gave him that name) will now have a look about every three months just to monitor.

He talks about putting some bacteria down there once a month or so. Scott looked online and the very reputable Ag Department at Michigan State University says it doesn’t add anything.

We’ve been pretty good about keeping coffee grounds and eggshells out of the tank (I learned that from Dad in Wyoming). And we put a lot of stuff into the compost.

I have a dishwasher and washing machine, three toilets and a shower.

I can’t believe it took five years to fill the thing up!

But aren’t the flowers nice above the tank.

Dear departed Erma Bombeck was right!

 

Comments

[Karen and Curt]

We too have a septic system and it gets pumped every two years. We do occasionally put RidX (beneficial bacteria) down the toilet just as we leave for a day or two. Probably available at Amazon if you're interested.
My rhubarb plants and daylilies that are planted ther do extremely well. 😉
Glad you figured out the problem before things got really sh***y!

[Diane]

The fun never ends at Chata Diviak!

[Jackie Elliot]

I think you should consider the prosperity of Scott's tomatoes when emptying the tank. The Chinese, almost the best cuisine in the world, were very big on "night soil". xxx

[Cousin Judy & Aunt Shirley]

Glad the situation has been solved! Due to our older suburban house, we must have our sewer lines cleared of roots every year! Good luck with figuring out the schedule! Such a pain when it starts to back up!

[JoEllen Zumberge]

I remember having to have the plumber in a few times to snake the junk out of the pipes in the apartment I lived in when I was at ASU in Tempe. He said it was the roots too.
Jackie: I am afraid to ask - how does one acquire then distribute "night soil"?

[Adrian Buck]

er hmmm! In the UK the Night Soil man would collect deposits - using a horse towed cart which looked a bit like a seed drill. I have seen pictures and a preserved cart at the Hillside Horse Sanctuary. It appears they were in use in rural Norfolk up to the 1950's.

Not wishing to display an unhealthy interest in septic tanks but .... underground tanks used to be made of brick with gaps left between the joints. The liquid waste then filters away - until you suffered from the dreaded waxing of the tank which stopped the seepage process. Which may explain the volumetric inconsistency!

Modern tanks (bio-discs?) also allow excess "water" to drain off.

The local commune has its own green system including osier bed.

Keep posting
Adrian B

[JoEllen Zumberge]

Adrian, thank you for the lesson. I am glad to know it was a kind of 'job' and that it helped employ people...
er hmmm is right!
Love, Jo

[Tim Jones]

My Great Aunt Sarah-Matilda lived in a 250 year old cottage in west Wales when she retired. She didn't have anything as sophisticated as a septic tank. Great Uncle Beynon (her brother) lived up the road and once a year came and dug a shallow trench from the plum tree to a point down the garden that experience had taught him was "sufficient". Aunty Tella, as Sarah-Matilda was known, visited the Ty-Bach when nature called. The Ty-Bach, from the Welsh meaning "little house", was a very small shed at the bottom of the garden with a bucket set beneath two planks with a hole in the middle. The contents of the bucket were then deposited in the trench and covered using a trowel left next to the trench.
As a consequence of 250 years of deposits the soil in her garden was very rich. The plum tree produced a huge crop year in year out and her lettuces, beans, potatoes etc etc were abundant and divine.
Sadly we don't have the trowel anymore. Nor Great Aunt Sarah-Matilda who lived well into her nineties.

For those who are interested Ty-Bach is pronounced Ty as in tea and Bach as in the composer.

[JoEllen Zumberge]

Just goes to show you, Tim, that living today is best. (!)

[JoEllen Zumberge]

Except our garden isn't nearly as lush your Aunt's!