Food... my favourite.

Well,  it's that time of year again.  And no,  I'm not talking about football,  American Thanksgiving (always good for football)  or even "Trench Warfare".

That was originally going to be one of the titles I was going to use,  if I ever got around to actually saying something.

This has been a little "project" that has been occupying a bit of my time in the last little while.  I kept thinking I'd rent a machine,  but with the ground being wet,  and not having any particular deadline looming,  I just kept digging by hand.

Way back in the day,  my nephew and I had poured a concrete walkway around the garage side of the house,  and I chose to have the downspout feed into a clay pipe that we installed underground.
Of course,  prior to having the work done in 2014 (Soffits,  fascia,  troughs and gutter guards)  all of the eaves troughs were subject to getting filled with crap every year,  and Muggins here had to go up on a ladder and clean them out.
We don't do that anymore.
Meanwhile though, my handy little culvert ended up getting plugged up after some 20 years,  and when it really came down hard,  I was getting a wee bit of water coming into the garage.
No bueno.

So,  I had to dig 'er up. 

With a combination of pressure washer and wet vac,  it's all cleared out,  new weeping tile has been installed,  along with a whack of gravel,  and the hole has mostly been filled in.

Oh,  the patio stone there is only so nobody steps into the trench between digging episodes.

I'll continue to dig a trench along where those lines are in the pic above,  as I need to install a new water line out to the shed.   There was an "incident" when we were away overseas,  and the old line is somewhat buggered.   It ain't below frost,  and that's all I'll say.

Mind you,  and I didn't take any more pics of this,  I now have a bit more dirt left over that I'll have to deal with.  Weeping tile and gravel take up a certain amount of space it seems.

  *groan*

It can sit there for a while.

The reference to "Food" above is due to the fact that,  for the first time since dinner time Tuesday night,  I can eat again. 

See,  on my Mom's side of the family,  we have a certain 'history'.   She had a colostomy for the last 15 or so years of her life,  and her brother Ernie (Ernest is my middle name,  he and Dad were best buddies)  also ended up with a colostomy for the last days of his life.  He passed away in the spring of the year I was born.

Not something to be ignored.   

So,  you can probably guess the rest.  No food.  A vile liquid.  Staying mighty close to the loo.   Ya,  like that.

This time around,  the nurse must have given me a primo dose of the requested knock-out drug,  'cause I don't remember a damned thing.  And that was exactly the outcome I was hoping for!

Bad enough you have to go through the "prep",  I'd just as soon not witness the rest.  

Travelling Companion stuck around to drive me home from the hospital,  and then it was time to eat.

Now,  there's a "word to the wise"  here, and this comes from having done this a few times, (hey,  I seem to be able to grow polyps like nobody's business)  the vile medicine that's in  your system to make it all *happen*,  is still lurking around later in the day after you get home.  What that means is,  (and I'm speaking from experience here)  don't just think you can scarf down everything in sight.

Moderation kids!   

Otherwise,  you may just have to excuse yourself half way through your very expensive Chinese dinner and head for the nearest Euphemism.   It's a little vexing to crap out forty bucks worth of Chinese food,   let me tell ya.

Your mileage may vary,  but I'm just saying.

And that's the lesson for the day.

Keep that stick on the ice,  and thanks for stopping by.

Cheers.