Happy Birthday ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
moominmuppet!
Nov. 16th, 2006 09:36 amMany happy returns of the day!
Nov. 16th, 2006
Happy Birthday
Nov. 16th, 2006 09:36 amThe Septic System Owners Manual
When we first moved in here, I had joked around with the realtor that they needed a book called "The Care and Feeding of Septic Systems" for city folk who move out to the country. This is that book.
It covers how the system works, what possible components are involved, and how to care for it. There's a bit on greywater systems, but just enough to give some basic ideas.
There's a section on what to feed septic systems - and more importantly, what not to feed them.
This doesn't quite give you enough information to set out and build a system from scratch - although it comes close - but that's not really its intention. It's a quick read that will familiarize the homeowner with what they need to know, and after that it makes a good reference for when things go wrong.
Fairyland in the Dark
Nov. 16th, 2006 06:53 pmI am okay - the Contour, on the other hand, she has flatlined, and is abandoned at a local store.
I was a short distance from work - about 30 miles from her final resting place - and lashed by a horizontal downpour. Suspicion #1 is that Things Got Wet. The battery light came on. And stayed on. Stopped for gas (of course. Cars never die on anything less. It's like leaving the room when you're an extra in a slasher flick. Fill the tank, the car dies. Simple.) The car started right up. Still with the battery light, especially mocking me after the Jeep without red lenses blinded me with brake and turn signal.
The speed limit on one stretch - usually exceeding 50 miles an hour - was about 40 at peak. Generally 30. Low visibility. And... I think the lights are getting dimmer.
Along a divided highway - speed limit 55, normally 65, often with some traffic passing quickly even at that - the speed was even further reduced. Several pickup trucks - four wheel drive monster trucks - kept it to 25. The lights are definitely reduced. All non-essential electrical stuff off. Like the defroster keeping the window clear.
Headlights dimming, I think. Other cars seem to look at me funny. I try to keep moving, hoping something from the alternator gets back to the power supply, baring that, hoping that I get home quicker before becoming stranded in a constantly battering rainfall.
I reach the junction of two highways and all doubt is gone - the lights are fading fast. Quickly going up over the hill, calling for backup - only to have Deb's cell drop the call. Downhill, some street lighting - things are fading but working.
Turn onto the side street, okay, still feels like enough juice to make it home. Only five miles away now.
Into the fields - darkness. The car in front pulls away and I realize for the first time that I no longer have headlights. Or interior lights. And the wipers. Are. Slowing. Dow
Complete darkness, nobody behind me. Mooching light off the opposing traffic who probably don't even know I'm there. Rolling to a stop, only worries as I stall all the way across Fairyland is that someone else might be in the same situation, as there is no light anywhere. Little to no power.
I roll through the intersection over the course of maybe three or four hours. At least it feels that way. The engine still reacts, a bit, and accelerates. Barely.
I pull into Millers. And she is done.
I was a short distance from work - about 30 miles from her final resting place - and lashed by a horizontal downpour. Suspicion #1 is that Things Got Wet. The battery light came on. And stayed on. Stopped for gas (of course. Cars never die on anything less. It's like leaving the room when you're an extra in a slasher flick. Fill the tank, the car dies. Simple.) The car started right up. Still with the battery light, especially mocking me after the Jeep without red lenses blinded me with brake and turn signal.
The speed limit on one stretch - usually exceeding 50 miles an hour - was about 40 at peak. Generally 30. Low visibility. And... I think the lights are getting dimmer.
Along a divided highway - speed limit 55, normally 65, often with some traffic passing quickly even at that - the speed was even further reduced. Several pickup trucks - four wheel drive monster trucks - kept it to 25. The lights are definitely reduced. All non-essential electrical stuff off. Like the defroster keeping the window clear.
Headlights dimming, I think. Other cars seem to look at me funny. I try to keep moving, hoping something from the alternator gets back to the power supply, baring that, hoping that I get home quicker before becoming stranded in a constantly battering rainfall.
I reach the junction of two highways and all doubt is gone - the lights are fading fast. Quickly going up over the hill, calling for backup - only to have Deb's cell drop the call. Downhill, some street lighting - things are fading but working.
Turn onto the side street, okay, still feels like enough juice to make it home. Only five miles away now.
Into the fields - darkness. The car in front pulls away and I realize for the first time that I no longer have headlights. Or interior lights. And the wipers. Are. Slowing. Dow
Complete darkness, nobody behind me. Mooching light off the opposing traffic who probably don't even know I'm there. Rolling to a stop, only worries as I stall all the way across Fairyland is that someone else might be in the same situation, as there is no light anywhere. Little to no power.
I roll through the intersection over the course of maybe three or four hours. At least it feels that way. The engine still reacts, a bit, and accelerates. Barely.
I pull into Millers. And she is done.
