Here is the latest in my catalogue of excuses as to why there is no blog.
I
first noticed it at the beginning of the week, a suspicion that the water level
in the WC was just a little higher than it should be. Yesterday brown liquid
was oozing from next door’s manhole cover and my own.
There had been no drainage problems in the 35 years I have lived at this address
so I suspected my new neighbours were doing something silly.
The drain layout is a gigantic distorted Y shape with a manhole below each house’s bathroom
(A and B) and the central junction point (C). Three are in my drive and the left top extremity
(A) on next door’s -just. The blocked covers are supposed to lift up but with all the gaps
filled with sand that is a forlorn hope. The paving had to be ripped up.
I drew the attention of my neighbour to the problem and two females looked at
it, got their phones out to take pictures and disappeared inside never to be
seen again. They conversed in a foreign tongue, and not to me. Very helpful!
Because I couldn’t see where the exit pipe was I had to bale the crap (A) into
my brown garden waste bin but after a while my injured knee couldn’t take any more of
the ups and downs and I slung it on the neighbour’s lawn. There was a whole load of what I
took to be paper panties mixed in.
All the while more muck was flowing from next door’s plumbing occasionally
splashing into my face because no one there had the sense to restrict usage.
I probed the exit pipe (A) with a device I bought on spec
years ago for my pressure washer. A lucky life saver.
After a while the remaining water at A flowed out but
nothing appeared at the bottom of the Y (Point D). I had destroyed that manhole
cover too but there had been no
response to probing from that end. The length of probe suggested a blockage
somewhere around C. If I destroyed that manhole (or B) the car would not be able
to re-enter the garage.
Another probe at A resulted in much gurgling and a long slow moving caterpillar
of you know what mixed with loads of white garments moving through the final exit point D.
Encouraged
by the movement (please excuse pun) I blocked the exit at A and filled the manhole with water
and then removed the plug to give it a good flush. Nothing happened, it had
blocked again. More probing and three more big flushes seemed to do the trick.
More panties than Marks & Spencer.
For my final trick I descended manhole D with a ladder in case my gammy leg
wouldn’t let me out again. I plugged the pipe where it enters D and spent 15
or 20 minutes filling A with water so that the whole underground system was
filled with water.
At this point the man who lives next door appeared and showed more interest than his females.
When I retrieved the plug there was an almighty rush of yet more knickers or
whatever the white fabric was and with luck the drain is now clear.
It has been suggested that I should just leave the neighbours to stew in their own
juice so to speak but that overlooks the fact that they are blocking my drain too.
I am inclined to put a grid across their pipe where it meets mine to see if it
catches any more panties.
On a happier note I have perfected the technique of taking a bath with a
bandaged leg and blood blackened ankle perched up on the tap to keep it dry.
There were two Council Scrutiny meetings last week, I have a feeling it will be February before a report sees the light of day.