(to be read between meals)
It all started at the end of the plumbing works when the water was turned on, with heavy, foul-smelling stench rising up the walls and partitions of the little house every time we took a shower. The bowels of the earth were telling us that an invisible evil was threatening our daily menthol toothbrushes.
It seems that the fourth septic tank is blocked. It’s inaccessible and buried under almost a metre of soil, under the north mound of the house. Hugo and I set about clearing access to it. Luckily, although it had been partially covered by the concrete pavement, the trap door was finally visible. Our unblocker came by to empty it completely and rid it of a horrifying quantity of non-biodegradable objects blocking the surface and creating a clog that was probably at the root of the problem.
I went off to buy two manhole extensions to make access easier. It’s been smelling like roses ever since… Antoine was on hand this weekend to re-clog the hole. The alchemist had indeed planned to turn lead into gold, but not hygiene products into dung, too bad, we’ll have to think about putting a little sign and equipment for that purpose in the toilets.
