I love this picture because it looks like a northwoods version of a POW camp - complete with rubber hose and rustic privy!
So, it being too late to call the septic guy (what was he going to do that night?!) and the attempt at thawing the clean-out proving futile, we resigned ourselves to a couple of days of roughin' it. I.e., piddling outside in temperatures SO COLD that the snow and ice cracks and snaps underneath you when the warm . . . well, you know . . . hits it, and doing our "other business" in this suddenly much appreciated (for something other than just being an "antique") commode (which we lined with a plastic bag, of course).
So, the next morning, I call the septic guy right away at 8:00 AM. I get his wife. We are one of approximately 100 (that's one HUNDRED) folks in this predicament. He will call us just as soon as he can. With an appointment and full day ahead of me, I throw a load of laundry (for Tom's business trip) into the car and head into town.
About 2/3 of the way in, my cellphone picks up reception for the first time. I have a message. It's the septic guy. He's going to be out in our neck of the woods and, since we're so remote, thinks he can squeeze us in today even though there are tons of other people ahead of us. But, he needs directions to the new house.
Cellphone reception being good enough to receive messages but not call out (clearly), I whip a U-turn and fly back about 7 miles to the general store where there is a phone. I get Septic Guy's own cellphone. No reception. He's out on a call. I leave detailed (DETAILED) directions of how to get to our house. I hope he'll check his voicemail from a landline before he leaves the area and heads back into town.
So, hmmm, what should I do? Continue on with my day thinking it's too late for him to show up? Go back home and cancel all my appointments on the slight chance that he'll make it? Yep, that's what I've gotta do!
By the time I get back home, I've driven 46 miles and accomplished nothing. But, some days are like that. By 3:00 in the afternoon I give up and head into town to wash the load of laundry at Mom and Dad's and take what I hope will be the last shower at their house.