This morning my wonderful, hardworking husband was up early to work on the raised beds that I insisted must be installed in the front yard. The project was going swimmingly until the tractor wheel cracked the cover of the septic tank. Well, shit. There is a literal cesspit in my front yard, awaiting a new cover. We covered the hole with plywood for the time being so that animals and people would avoid the area and not fall in. Or at least that was the plan before the Amazon delivery lady came to the house.
I saw her and I saw the hole. I rushed to meet her halfway trying to keep her away from the cesspit. She walked around the plywood and handed me the package. I figured she saw it. Or smelled it at least. I took my package, thanked her and began to return to the house.
Then I heard her scream.
I turned and saw that this woman had fallen through the plywood and into the poo water, her entire left leg submerged in water and feces up to her knee. I just froze in horror. She pulled herself out of the hole and I invited her to use the hose to rinse her leg and shoe. I offered her a towel to dry off. There were no physical injuries but her pride took a beating today. That is not what she signed up for! And then I sent her back into the world to finish her route, smelling for all the world, like a sewer.
An escape from the suburbs and corporate America spawned a journey into rural living. Writer, wife, mother, and local chicken lady, join me as I fail, fail, fail! and learn along the way.