The Queen has taken up clogging

I have taken up a new sport - clogging.  But perhaps not the way you are thinking.  There's nothing resembling tap dance in this kind of clogging.

It all started after a particularly bad night of not sleeping.  I may have gotten a total of four hours in and even those were not restful.  It seems that when the family is staying with us I tend to be hypervigilant and things don't operate as normal.

After a full day with the family I arranged to run back home for a little break and take a shower before supper at Sister Mary's.  Then I would return to her house to make the corn dish and help with supper.

To begin with, I was clogged up.  I won't go into detail here, you know full well what I mean.  So, you can imagine my relief when things suddenly moved and I had some success in that department.  Yup, I was a very relieved woman...until I tried to flush the toilet.

This all occured while Left Brain was off watching the Packer vs Viking game and there's no way I was going to interupt that.  I knew what had to be done...I just didn't want to do it.

We have a sink snake that has done the job before, so I felt pretty confident when I fished this down into the black hole and worked away at it.  My goodness but this is a disgusting job!  But it should be over soon.  Nope.

No good.  Since we don't own a plunger or a larger toilet auger, I washed up and braced myself to a nighttime trip to Walmart.  It was a dark and stormy night as they say and off I went, my gloom matching the sky. 

I tried to call Sister Mary and explain I might be late ask if someone could start my side dish but the phone would not work.  I turned to the right, fully expecting to see Rod Stewart sitting in the passenger seat. 

As I wandered about the store trying to find the plumbing area I was approached by two young men in the electronics department that wanted to know if I had a moment to take a brief survey.

They looked a bit put off when I blurted out "Don't talk to me...I'm all backed up."  I sure that made no sense to them, but they did leave me alone.

I finally located the area I needed and wondered again why these things are never in the same spot in all the stores.  I picked out a toilet augerand  a plunger.  I don't like using chemicals but as a backup I wanted to be ready for chemical warfare if needed.  So I finally found a product that proclaimed itself safe for plastic pipes and septic systems.

I found myself mumbling a Dirty Harry routine as I pictured the encounter I'd soon have.  With a swagger in my step, or maybe I was just weaving from sleep deprivation, I proceeded to the checkout.

Then I went to leave the store, trying to remember which door I came in and where my car might be.  It was pitch black out there now and raining hard.  I looked up to the heavens and muttered in disbelife to G-d..."seriously?"

After returning to the scene of the slime I proceeded to try the plunger first.  I plunged hard for several tries to no avail...nothing was going to budge.  It looked like it was going to need the auger.

It took me ten minutes to get the stinking wire off the end of the auger to release it in order to begin my journey to the center of the earth...or at least the septic tank.

I stook over the throne, poised for attack with the end of the auger in the tank, feeling very much like a snake charmer and a killer cobra.  Then I remembered that I would have to turn the water off before opening up the hole.  So back outside into the rain to shut off the faucet.

Okay, she's back, she's ready to go in....and when I stepped on the foot pedal to open the hole it dawned on me.  I really should have done this before all that plunging.

So, releasing my snake into the shower stall, I retrieved the plunger again and opened the hole and plunged.  Whoosh!  Down it went.  I ran back out into the storm to turn the water on again.

The toilet had started to have an acid reflux thing going on and we dared not gaze upon the open throne while flushing. That probably should have been our first clue that disaster was headed our way.

I filled the bowl again and put the pedal to the medal.  Whoosh!  Touchdown!  The crowd went wild!  Well, just the Queen doing a little touchdown victory dance in her own personal end zone.

After washing up my implements of destruction and leaving them in the shower stall to dry, I was then able to go and join the family for supper.

When I arrived and shared my misadventures my son-in-law summed it up beautifully.  He said "it's a crappy job but somebody's gotta do it."

Long Live the Queen of Plumbing