I am sure that the local people must have thought Dr Who had arrived in Llanfair and parked his time machine at the Waterdine. None of us had seen anything like it before, Rob who had seen several of its type, thought that it had possibly been made in Russia. I must say its photo did not do it credit, it was certainly a lot bigger in the flesh than any of us had imagined, probably because at the last moment I had opted for the bigger version, not realising exactly how much bigger it was going to turn out to be. Its my age you see, when someone speaks to me in metric, although on one level I understand that a metre is a little bigger than a yard, that information does not translate into a meaningful picture in my mind.
I am going on about our brand spanking new biological sewage treatment plant, our old system being on its last legs, we had decided to install this system to save Isabel the time she spends rodding out the drains, a chore which she was always called upon to do at the most inconvenient times. Isabel and I have a sort of life agreement, she likes gardening and I do not, so we agreed early on that if we bought houses with gardens that would be her domain, somehow this has translated to anything outside the front or back door is down to her, not that I will not help but for some reason my assistance is seldom called upon.
When it arrived it was about as big as large family MPV and was taller than Pam’s Lodge, which is all well and good except it was going to need a hole about twice as big. Rob who has been doing all the work, so far, scratched his head and told me that he did not think his little digger was man enough for the job at hand, which is a bit odd as he always calls it “her or she”, but never mind the ever resourceful Rob knew a man who would loan him a bigger digger. The only problem was that he could not get hold of it until next week, so the treatment plant had to stand in full view for nearly a whole week before the job of burying it could commence. It was Isabel who first called it the Tardis, as word spread (presumably that Dr Who was in residence) it became increasingly clear that most of the locals and some from further a field were making the trip inspect this strange object, the traffic flow increased quite substantially over the next few days, I counted as many as 15 vehicles in one day alone.
The day arrived when “Big Dig” was set to arrive and Rob got strait on with the job of creating a very deep hole to bury the Tardis, it was all over in a relatively short time, the hole was dug the cement base poured in and allowed to set overnight, the next day the Tardis was set in place and surrounded with a thick skin of concrete, all that now remained was for the existing drains to be connected and we would be up and running.
I say all! Thank goodness Rob who had foreseen the possible implications had previously installed a temporary pipe to allow us to continue to operate whilst the work was being undertaken, because when he came to connecting the existing pipes he found not just the one or two we expected, but pipes coming from all direction, as over the years a variety of different plumbers and non- plumbers had added various bit and pieces to the system, even as he thought he had found the last one he discovered another and so on until eventually rob had created a weird looking octopus of a drainage system, in all it took another three days to compleate the work.
But now we have a brand new sewage treatment plant in place and operating we have joined the green brigade, because we have to be careful not to upset the little enzymes on which the system depends, we cannot use ordinary washing up liquid, cleaners or bleach, luckily Isabel has found that Tuffins our local supermarket stock a compleate range of eco friendly cleaning fluids.
Oh yes the bluebell! When Rob was measuring for the hole, in a light hearted frame of mind I pointed to a single bluebell which was soon to be perched precariously on what was to become the very edge of the hole, knowing how much earth was going to be taken out, I jokingly asked Rob to make sure that he did not disturb the flower. It is either a testament to his skill with a digger or an act of god because after all the work had been completed the little bluebell was still in place, still proudly swaying in the breeze and next year perhaps hopefully we will have a little blue patch of its offspring heralding the onset of spring.