The Bog of Certain Stench
I saw the film Labyrinth back in 1986 when it was in theatres. I mostly wanted to see it because I love David Bowie. I really love him - but I digress, plus I got to talk about crushes in yesterday's QotD. Anyway, I distinctly remember laughing out loud when the characters of the film got to the Bog of Certain Stench. I have never forgotten that moniker. There can be no mistake about being in the "Bog of Certain Stench."
Gorgeous! And I'll bet he smells fantastic to boot.
This week I am taking the plunge and having some major underground plumbing replaced. The area where I live has old houses and old-growth weed trees everywhere, so I have gotten pretty handy with a heavy duty sewer snake (or electric eel) for root removal. I have my Dad to thank for always being willing to help me with the job, but the last time I did it, I managed it alone. The process involves getting a 200 lb. machine from the car to the basement and back to the rental place. Oh! And it also involves running the thing 50 - 100 ft into the line and pulling tree roots out with each pass and each different cutter, and it's scary and could easily rip your hand or arm off if you're not careful. It's not the sort of thing that makes you feel ladylike, I assure you.
As soon as the ground is thawed and I have *gulp* authorized the work, my side yard will be dug up for the purpose of replacing my 1920 drain line, sewer pipe and tile. I've decided that when you have an old house and an old car, you get used to either compensating for what doesn't work or learning to fix it yourself. In the case of this repair, I have to rely on someone else and get over the cost. Compensating for inadequate plumbing has become too much of a burden and the repair simply cannot wait any longer.
So my basement, which I have often referred to as the "Bog of Certain Stench," will soon be functional again and will lose the allure that earns it that nickname.
I'll find another "Bog of Certain Stench," I'm sure. It will probably be the next time I end up wedged into tree roots in my kayak, unable to free myself without getting really dirty and wet.
Such a girly-girl.
post script entry: I just found out that the Bog may not have been of Certain Stench after all, but rather of Eternal Stench. That makes my memory bad, but I have always used Certain, so I am sticking with it. Sorry Jim Henson, David Bowie, et al.
