Sewergate – The Continuing Story

Wednesday, I left you with the glorious mental images of a hole of poop in my front yard.  However, the angels smiled upon me, and a man appeared in a white van in my driveway, got out, went to the hole, measured stuff…and left.

Then came back a bit later, went to the hole, where he spent an hour making angry noises and yelling incomprehensibly from where I was hiding in the house.  Because when he first pulled up and I went to the window to see who was out there, he glared at me.  So I hid from the angry man, who coughed as if he had Black Lung.  Or Ebola. Or, you know, one of those plagues you get from hanging around holes full of poop.   Sadly, the latter is completely possible, since we provided him with the hole of said poop.

He never came to the door.  He just angrily fixed the sewer pipe and left.

Meanwhile, another crew came by and dropped off backfill for the hole, which was to be put in the hole once the line was fixed.  I ran a load of laundry, mainly to make sure the line was actually fixed, and once the hole did not fill with soapy bleachy water, I ran all the washing appliances in the house and waited for those who would fill the hole to return.

They didn’t.

The next morning – after trying to get a very angry tantruming Maura to the bus, and catching her back the back of the shirt as she ran blindly howling down the front walk towards the gaping hole – I sent a message to our property manager to give to the plumbers.  “Come fix this hole before my disabled daughter kills herself or me in it!”

The property manager sent all his apologies, and contacted the plumbing company, which stated that someone was on their way.  Someone did come – and filled the small, non-life-threatening hole on the other side of the driveway, where the water meter was.

But the giant gaping hole at the end of the sidewalk?  That they left, like an obnoxious crater of post-modern art.

Luckily, the Shovel of Safety is still doing a commendable job.  And my friend brought me a bottle of wine and chocolate, because she is a true friend.


A plumber just pulled up to the house.

I’m obviously hallucinating and need to go to the ER. Send flowers and sangria.


The hole has been filled…ish.  See, somehow, despite taking dirt out of the hole, and dropping off a bunch of filler dirt, there wasn’t enough dirt to fill the hole.  We’re pretty sure the first hole filler used some of that dirt to make the giant mound of dirt over at the much smaller hole, which now resembles a small burial mound.

So the guy kind of made a new hole to fill that hole more.

Oh sure, I said “They put some over here <pointing to landscaping> so you can take from there” – but I didn’t think he’d dig down into the area.

He was also kind enough to leave all the broken sewer bits.  We wouldn’t want them in the hole.  No, that could be bad.  So he just left them next to the boulder that was pulled out of the landscaping last year.  I’ve decided to make a sculpture out of the broken bits of sewer pipe, and title it “Oh Shit”.  It should auction for thousands, right?

sadly, this is the improvement
sadly, this is the improvement