Monday, 9 February 2009

Monday Bloody Monday

Why is it the first day of the working week, even when you're a retired OAP like me, still holds that aura of doom? Today was a case in point. People not of a strong constitution should probably stop reading now.

The unavoidable subject will be poo. Weaver of Grass will totally understand, I'm sure. I have spent a 'happy' morning discovering a blockage in the drains of my house, and my two adjacent neighbours. First port of call was the council, who referred me to Southern Water Services, and the ubiquitous push button options. These resulted in a posh, electronic voice that asked me my name, and said I'd get a phone call back when an operative was available...

This, surprisingly, happened within minutes. I asked what my next action should be, as how was I supposed to know which direction the drains ran? So that I could ascertain the extent of the problem, I really needed this information. The girl named a nearby road, then said anywhere beyond that point, individual householders were responsible. Suddenly I had the disposal of poo of upwards of fifty houses to evaluate.

This left me just a little nonplussed. Thank goodness for the Internet, is all I can say. I now have three contacts with firms who should be able to sort the problem, and it is simply a case of waiting to see who can get here first. It's not got to emergency proportions, when I imagine poo would begin to ooze up from around manholes, but how many unsuspecting neighbours will suddenly be confronted with a man knocking on their front doors, asking to look down their inspection covers?

This is obviously destined to become a serial post... but please, don't tempt me to write a poem about it, for the sake of my sanity as well as common decency... But I have, anyway...

Poo Poem

The subject is mostly taboo,
but what is a poor girl to do
when the roots of a tree
block her drains up, you see,
and cause quite a backlog of poo?

Thank goodness, the problem is gone,
though my bank balance looks a bit wan,
but to stop it recurring again
a liner must go in the drain
and I alas, needs must 'Think on!'

Five hundred and sixty-odd quid
was quoted for work, if they did
employ a technique
to correct it this week
by handiwork totally hid.

A surveyor is due to appear
early tomorrow, I fear.
After that we will see
if it's all down to me
or household insurance, m'dear!

14 comments:

  1. Lawd! a poo poem! huhn! laughing..

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  2. I'm afraid you're boggling my pathetic Monday morning mind.

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  3. sorry, my mistake, too many typing errors

    Thought I smelled something funny!

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  4. Oh dear, Jinksy - Not even dear you could wrap your sweet verse around clogged drains! Thinking of you, smelling of ... - No, that won't do will it?!

    ~Will the plumber now become one of your heroes? x

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  5. So glad that poo sometimes rears its ugly head on other sites as well as mine, Jinksy. Good luck with the drain men, whenever they come.

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  6. Aw, come on! I'd loooooove to hear a poo poem!

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  7. Five hundred and sixty-odd quid
    was quoted for work, if they did
    employ a technique
    to correct it this week
    by handiwork totally hid.

    i love your poems more than post, that's candid confession.

    Regards

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  8. We discovered the joys of poo disposal where there are no community drains when we had to install an aerobic septic system last year. The bank balance still groans. Good luck in your investigation!

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  9. You have an incredible gift of taking the most un-pleasantries that life dishes up and putting a humorous, witty spin on them. You are a joy to read.

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  10. I have laughed until I cried. But it ain't funny is it?? Been there, done that!!! Oh yes, they had to dig up the front yard all the way to the street to repair the busted sewer line. So there was NO keeping it from the neighbors... if you get my 'drift'.

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  11. My wish was obviously your command! Thank you!

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