Happy Saturday morning:

“It’s a bacterial, or septic, soup, but it’s not a toxic soup.” ~ Darin Mann

I shouldn’t even mention this since I’m having my morning coffee and many of you are staring at your steaming bowl of steelcut oats. But yesterday our septic system cleanout began, I peeked in – wrong, it is a toxic soup.

More following, you’re now forewarned.

After the flush – many things happen. In the big city all these things are seamless and magical. Pay the water bill and the ‘magician’ stays behind the curtain.

Country living adds a series of dimensions few city slickers (such as moi) are aware of.

Our discovery began when Marcia, now suitably settled in at Northern Comfort, flushed and seconds later began throwing a bundle of towels on the growing puddle on the bathroom floor.

Within minutes I was on the phone; “hello, 4-Seasons Septic Service. Yes this is Dirk, could you come?”

Yesterday, bright and early, a truck larger than our cabin rumbled up. After a bit of prep work the boss-man fired up the vacuum pump and to the gentle hum of what I assumed was a 747 jet engine the cleanout of our septic system had begun.

Many minutes later all that was left was a dead mole laying on the edge of our septic system. In its final act, the mole must have leaned over and sniffed around. Now, the tank was pristine and the lid replaced.

We were assured that we, at this moment, have at least two years to try and fill the thing before Marcia needs to grab her spare pile of towels. Let the effort begin.      

More intimate things – to share since we’re hanging our dingy laundry today. Lakeside living also means that when turning on the faucet water does not come through a pipe twenty something miles long and from faceless source. Ours comes from the lake and through a pipe that’s mere meters long. That does mean that, just like any water supply, ours too needs to be filtered. This past week I changed the main cabin filter and decided to show a before and after photograph. In case you’re uncertain, the replacement core is on the left.

The ceramic filter lasts between one and two months. It’ll filter out anything larger than 5-microns. Do not ask me what a micron is since I don’t have a clue – I’m assuming it’ll stop most Smallmouth Bass swimming out there.

For those of you wrinkling your nose, drinking water then goes through a charcoal filter before it’s ready to go.

Tweaking the toys – is an important thing for both kids and grown-ups. For kids it’s usually changing a battery or screwing the wheel back on a wooden toy. For grown-ups it gets a bit hairier.

My pride and joy, our little vintage Citroën Deux Chevaux 2CV began leaking oil. ‘Leaking’ in old age is a common thing if I listen to the folks at companies which provide a solution – think P&G.

For a car a pad works, but only when standing still. When driving an oil leak is not something you want. Luckily, in these parts – the North Woods – we have a wealth of “good-old-boys”. These folk have seen it all, are innovative, and see the unusual as a challenge.

With me reving the engine while sitting in the car, high up on the hoist, Rick-the-mechanic diagnosed the problem. Days later my west coast parts guy had shipped what was needed (a new oil pressure sensor) to “p” (name hidden to protect the innocent) who dutifully ran it across the border.

After a little manipulation to adjust for an over-the-years modernization of the replacement part, and the cutting of a small access hole to allow for the reaching in of a socket wrench, it was a “Voila” moment (said in French since it’s a French car). It’s running like new. Look ma, no leak.

As the TV infomercial knife guy would say; “but that’s not all folks”.

I needed another “good-old-boy”, this time for my fabulous 1955 vintage Johnson boat engine.

Two days after dropping the engine off Chris-the-marine-engine-mechanic called to say the engine was now running fine. Chris-the-marine-engine-mechanic’s shop is a home garage. The walls are filled with shelves and literally hundreds of parts, bits, and components—new, used, barely used, and everything in between. Marcia was with me and was enthralled; “smells just like I remember how my grandpa’s basement smelled” she hummed. Next to the garage were a couple of 55-gallon drums filled with water to test run the engines.

Now he is just waiting for the engine’s lower end seals to arrive. By mid-week I should be purring around the lake; assuming our torrential rains stop that is.

Animal Planet – Thursday Paul and I drove to town. Two-thirds of the way in it was a bounding yearling bear which crossed the road in front of us; perfectly black and full of spunk – fun to watch.

My assistant’s duties as “Bear-bait-boy” have come to an end with the return of Bob-the-forester. Careful analysis of the bait site tells me that I’ve been feeding the Raccoons very well.

Fini – Happy Birthday Pete. I forgot to mention that nephew Pete’s birthday was last Wednesday. And a Happy-Happy to bro George this coming Wednesday.

To D & P, don’t inhale any second hand smoke as you get up close and personal to Bardarbunga-the-volcano.

These parts had great weather this whole week. Now that the area has filled with folk here for a last Labor Day outing and cabin closing, the rains have come. Torrential rains.

I am almost ready to invite animals to my large Folbot Kayak – two by two.

Make it a great week. Stay safe.
Cheers.

Dirk