Year One--Looking Back, Cont.

At this time last year, we were doing a lot of digging--mainly Alan. He dug exploratory holes to figure out the paths of the existing water pipes. He dug up the old frost free that wasn't working any more. Alan dug deeper trenches for the wires from the power pole to the shop & wood shed, again mostly so he could understand where they were, how deep, etc., for when the backhoe showed up to excavate the hole for the septic tank and move ground on March 31st.

In preparation for the installation of the septic system, I had to take down another ranch icon--Grandma Bernice and Grandpa Darrel's honeymoon cabin, AKA, the Tent Shed. We had no choice but to take it down because of the regulations about a drain field's distance from the water source, etc. It troubled me to no end, but I made myself feel better about it by promising to rebuild it (which will happen once we decide on a good relocation site). It was full of, among other things, old coffee cans full of rusty hardware, a chest with old books and papers, a couple pair of old ice skates, and Grandpa Boyd's two-man Mall chainsaw all covered deeply with rodent waste--fir cone shreddings, mostly, but the other stuff, too.

I'd no sooner taken the last load of this-n-that to the Skunk Shed, where it is now being stored, than the guys from Stotts showed up to install the 10,000 gallon, concrete septic tank. It was a one day, slam-bam thank you ma'am operation. Dan and Byron were there bright and early with the truck, trailer and backhoe set up. One of my major apprehensions about this entire project had been the bridge and its ability to hold the weight of all these heavy loads.

The first big test came on this day with the backhoe and the septic tank transport rig. Even though I'm fairly sure my blood pressure spiked each time something big was pulled, pushed or carried across the bridge, it never uttered more than a slight creak. To their credit, the Stotts guys were never worried. But when the septic tank transport truck driver saw the bridge you could literally see the blood drain from his face. "I'm not taking my truck over that bridge," he said. But he was talked into it. And it came right across, no sweat!

By early afternoon, the tank was in, the leach lines were in place and we were ready for our second inspection. While the guys were there with a backhoe on premises, we had them move some earth--level the site, make a runway for backing the house onto the pad and dig a trench from the pump house to the spot Alan had determined the water line should enter the house.