What did you think I meant?
There was a small cyclone of disrupted plans and disappointment on Saturday morning, but in the end, I got the hole dug for the house. First Mr. Excavator called at 8:30 to say he couldn’t come. By then Roger Dodger the Builder was already on his way up there, thinking to meet at 9, and Dan was all ready to go up and be the helpful go-fer (since I had to work at the post office), all for naught. I mentioned this to Mr. E., with no small amount of acerbity, and that seemed to have pricked his conscience, since an hour later he called again to say that they’d be there at 1:30. That worked out even better for me, since I could be there. And the guy did an excellent job. He was obviously a talented operator.
BSE Excavating in Townsend. I reccommend them highly.
I got lots and lots of pictures, but, once again, the software on this blog host doesn’t like my computer and refuses to upload pictures properly (no, no, there is absolutely zero chance that I’m just doing it wrong. How could I, the Postal Priestess, the Ayatollah of Crappola, the Wizard of 5th Dentistry be so inept?).
Interestingly, neither the foundation hole nor the septic test hole had any water in them. I expected to find lots of underground streams and springs and general ground water. Who could ask for more? Water in the well, but not around the house! The next step is to get the inspector from the department of health up here to tell me exactly how much drainfield to put in, and where.