Blitzing the BLOCKAGE
When his backyard sewage spill flushes out a delicate issue, grossed-out Jeremy just has to pipe up! New Zealand Woman’s Weekly
Warning – the following shouldn’t be read while eating, if you’re sensitive or maybe at all. I’m sorry. Just read this, then move on with your day: Please don’t flush wipes down the toilet.
Yes, even those ones that say “flushable”. They’re not. Don’t do it. Just don’t. OK. Public service announcement over. Thank you. You may continue with your day or, if you choose, read on to see why I plead with you so.
There’s a special kind of sigh one makes when one realises there is raw sewage overflowing one’s drain and running down one’s driveway.
It’s a sigh that encompasses disbelief in what is happening, a dollop of disgust, and the realisation you are about to fork out several hundred dollars and many hours merely to return things to the banal way they were. A waste of money on waste. It was 6.30pm and I was at work when Megan sent me a photo of the effluent disaster. Drains never get blocked during the nine-to-five day. They have some sort of arrangement with plumbers to only misbehave after hours. More money. Double time, baby.
I put my head in my hands at the thought of all the effort needed to fix it. Turns out
I’m something of a drama queen. By the time I had replied to her text, she had already called the plumber and he was en route.
After a quick examination of the scene, he declared it a council issue, rang them to let them know, jumped back in his truck and said, “I’ll send you an invoice.”
So far no improvement in the situation and $300 down. Not to mention the expenditure on scented candles.
It’s here I’d like to salute Watercare, the company responsible for Auckland’s fluids – they were impressive.
Two friendly guys were on the scene by the time I arrived home. They assured me a cleanup crew was on the way and, in the meantime, they would jam hoses all over the place, turn on flashing lights and pumps, and generally make serious problemsolving noises.
It’s possible they weren’t their exact words.
As darkness fell, the lights flashed and the pumps ran, subterranean maps were consulted and maintenance hole covers opened, the clean-up guy arrived and hazard vests with water blasters wandered up and down the drive. There was a real air of things getting done.
I had full respect for these people dealing with the less pleasant side of our city’s infrastructure.
Then silence. I wandered out and they told me the issue was a blockage from somewhere in the neighbourhood. They’d managed to clear it and the normal flow of things had resumed. Apparently, quite alarmingly to begin with.
Within four hours of the overflow, we had pristine pipes, and a fully cleaned and disinfected driveway.
Impressive. But disgusting. I would not wish this event on anyone. The good news is there’s a really easy way to prevent such blockages in future.
Please. Don’t. Flush. Wipes.
Drains never get blocked during the nine-to-five day. They have some sort of arrangement with plumbers...
What a difference a year makes! This time last year, I was in the Hokianga, counting down the sleeps until I would be seeing my family who were serving their time in MIQ.
It had been a terribly stressful time, given that their flights to New Zealand had been cancelled because of a new Covid variant that had appeared in the United Kingdom – the London variant. And although they could get flights with another airline, they couldn’t match up the flights with a place in MIQ.
Nearly every one of us, among my daughter and son-in-law’s family and friends, spent the leadup to Christmas refreshing the MIQ booking page, desperately hoping to see a space appear.
And lo, it was the miracle of Christmas. On Christmas
Eve, spaces opened up, they managed to snaffle one and in a mad crazy rush, they packed up or abandoned the baggage that comes with 10 years of living in another country and were home on New Year’s Eve.
My daughter actually loved MIQ. She’d been locked up in London but still had to do her own cooking and cleaning, and her husband was trying to work from home. In MIQ, she had two lovely rooms (those were the days when they tried to give families a bit of space), somebody else was doing the domestic chores for her and her husband wasn’t working, so he had the time to be an active parent.
She was extremely grateful and I know when they were both trying to work from home with two preschoolers during the nationwide lockdown last year, she looked back on that time in MIQ fondly.
They were supposed to be heading home in the middle of last year and I cannot even begin to imagine my state of mind if we’d had to go through MIQ roulette as so many other people are doing.
Omicron has come along, just like the London variant did, just when people had been given a sliver of hope, and shattered the plans of so many Kiwis, here and overseas, who are longing to be with their families.
I really, really feel for all those New Zealanders who’ve been apart now for more than two years. And for those people who married Kiwis, on the basis that they were only 36 hours away from their home countries and families, and now feel trapped here.
So many incredible life events – births, deaths, marriages, anniversaries, reunions – have been and gone without clans and whānau being together.
And as I’m getting older, I know it’s those together times that make up a happy life. Feeling connected and part of something greater than you, and knowing you are part of a continuum of life, is what matters – for me at least.
So now, in 2022, I’m in the Hokianga, counting my blessings. I have my family back home in New Zealand, we are all together, safe and settled, and the peace of mind that brings is immeasurable.
For those of you who are still apart, who still don’t have a date when you know you will be hugging those children and grandchildren of yours, I know how you feel. I really do. And I know how lucky I am to have my family here with me.
My wish for this year is that this virus will mutate off the planet and allow us all to be with those we love, whenever we wish. What an unimaginable luxury.
Feeling connected and part of something greater than you, and knowing you are part of a continuum of life, is what matters