It’s time for more excuses.  I know I’m late but I really do have a good reason which you’ll figure out shortly.

If you’re like me you have a checklist, of sorts, in the back of your head.  To explain it in the common vernacular, it’s a brain app, kind of like the calendar app in most phones.  There are certain events or concerns that are always floating around in there that I don’t consciously think about but, when the time is right, just pop up.  Things like birthdays, and anniversaries, and when the car registration is due to be renewed, and when state inspection is due on which car, and when it’s time to apply for my antlerless deer tag.  I don’t write these things down, they just make their way to the top of the “need to do list” at the appropriate time.  The most pesky on is the one I call; “Where does your poop go?”

Most people fall into one of three categories when it comes to poo.  Either: A)  I don’t care.  I flush and it goes away.  B) I flush, it goes away, I’m glad someone, somewhere is taking care of it. Or C)  I hope my septic system doesn’t back up into my basement because I don’t really want to see this again and when was the last time I had it sucked out.  I, of course, am answer C.  It’s not that I continually think about poop (that would be weird) but when three of the four properties you own have septic systems you tend to worry about the potential liabilities associated with a system that has gone bad.  To that end, we regularly have ours pumped and I’m a stickler about what goes down the drain.  No matter how much I try not to worry about it though, there’s always a little voice somewhere in the back of my brain whispering “It’s only a matter of time.  Beware the poop!”  Several weeks ago the little voice became much louder and actually sounded a lot like my mother.

After some epic nephew flushes her system began gurgling up from the basement floor.   After a snaking and scoping by my plumber Jim (It’s like a colonoscopy for your house. Who knew that there where little albino flies living in the poop in the pipes under your house!) we discovered that the old terra cotta pipes under the garage floor had cracked and partially collapsed.  The only solution was to dig them up and replace them.  I, of course, am retired.  So, since I have nothing better to do during the hottest week of the decade, I got to cut concrete, break up concrete, dig a ditch, shovel poop laced dirt, lay pipe, shovel gravel, mix concrete, pour concrete, finish concrete, reconnect sewer lines and take lots of showers.  Retirement is great!  So there’s my excuse.  I usually write in the morning but, because of the heat, I was digging every morning and had very little motivation to do much else in the afternoon but rehydrate.  But I do still want to know, “Where do you put your poop?”  Not your real poop, but another kind of poop.

Life is never simple.  None of us go through life never having to deal with problems.  We’ve all lost loved ones, maybe parents or children or spouses.  We have financial difficulties, marital problems, work issues, obnoxious neighbors, the list goes on.  And what do you do with that “poop” in your life?  Do you hope it just goes away?  Do you ignore it and assume someone else will handle it?  Or do you just let it bounce around in the back of your head waiting to explode at an inopportune time?  I know I’ve been guilty of “all of the above” at one time or another and I don’t recommend any of them.  We need to face difficult issues head on.  Get professional help if you need to.  Talk to someone who has been through the same crisis.  Find someone to trust or just someone who will listen.  Believe me, it’s always worse if you wait for the poop to come bubbling up.  Be proactive.  Head things off before they become a bigger issue.   Confront the problem and don’t wait for the little voice to become a screaming banshee!  And no, my mother is not a screaming banshee!  I’m just glad I now know where her poop goes and how it gets there.