The great poo adventure or when all great plans go wrong.

The great poo adventure or when all great plans go wrong.

On Friday morning our downstairs toilet started leaking water into the bathroom. Initially the water appeared to be clean, but by Saturday morning it had a faint whiff to it. If we flushed the toilet upstairs or emptied the bath, water mysteriously appeared in the ground floor bathroom.

Two years ago we had the same problem, (see Treasure maps, pee and poo) so using my best Italian, I called the poo man to come and clear the blockage.

BobtheBuildercanwefixit590360-580x358

Mr Poo Man to the rescue

Hi, I Pecora Nera, me toilet blocking, you come here yesterday now.

Poo Man: Hi Pecora Nera, How are you, I will come and fix the problem on Monday.

Fantastic. Where, erh When?

Poo Man: In the afternoon.

I told Mrs Sensible that the Poo Man was coming on Monday afternoon and everything would soon be back to normal, or at least as normal as our house gets. I cancelled my afternoon lessons and waited and waited and waited.

0c9a5838-fea4-4f3b-8fa6-f7c4c9ce288a-2739-000002cb8e5895ec

Waiting for the Poo Man is not fun

Not only didn’t the Poo Man turn up, but he wouldn’t answer any of my messages or telephone calls. Very late on Tuesday he sent me a message asking if he could come on Thursday morning. I knew by Thursday morning we would be swimming in poo. I sent a terse message back asking him where he was on Monday and could he please please come on Wednesday. I haven’t heard from him since…

When all else fails there is always Facebook, so I posted a message in one of the Facebook groups and a nice lady called Jill said she normally fixes her septic tank blockages with a garden hose pipe.

Hmm! All it takes is a hose pipe. I unscrewed the toilet and peered into the hole underneath it.

f7750bb9-9765-4065-ba5c-d5c2ce41d25b-2739-000002cb078de1c8

There appears to be a rather lot of poo down there..

I slowly fed the hose pipe down the hole and metre by metre it disappeared, after thirty minutes of pushing and pulling, the hose pipe finally stopped. I estimate the end of the hose pipe was some 20 metres down the hole. No matter how hard I pushed or twisted the hose pipe it wasn’t going any further.

And so I sat down and had a little think.

Winnie_the_Pooh_Hmm_Think_Think_Think

Just a little think.

And then I had a wonderful idea, if I suddenly turned the hose pipe on, the force of the water would blast the blockage of poo out of the way. I could then go out for a glass of wine.

And without a second though, I twisted the tap and fired the water down the hose pipe, the result was not quite as I had anticipated. The majority of the poo remained firmly in place some 20 metres down the pipe. But a rather large amount returned back up the pipe and created a rather spectacular fountain of poo, toilet paper and water in the middle of the bathroom.

Winnie_the_Pooh_and_Rabbit_have_their_Eyes_Closed

I heard it, I smelt it but I didn’t really want to see it.

I will be honest, it was not  the result I had wanted. It took me nearly 2 hours to mop the floor, walls and sink and I still had a blocked pipe. I decided I should give the Poo Man a quick call. I am not sure he will ever fully understand the message I left him, but I think he realised I was a little dissatisfied with him.

I sat down and had another little think.

If I could seal the space between my hose pipe and the hole, it might be possible to stop the water and poo escaping into the bathroom, it might actually force the poo into the septic tank where it belongs. And so I started to ram and stuff old sheets and cloth in the hole and around the hose pipe. I then added my weight by firmly standing on top of the cloth sealed hole and asked my assistant….. Mrs Sensible to turn the tap on.

Rabbit 2

I suddenly realised I might not have thought of everything.

As the water fired down the hose pipe for a second time, I realised I might have made a few miscalculations. There was the possibility that the pressure might actually force a thin but powerful jet of poo and water up past my makeshift seal and hit anyone stupid enough to be stood on top of the seal. Or worse still it might force the poo, toilet paper and a substantial amount of water in another direction altogether and exit out the kitchen sink, or the bidet that was currently right next to my left elbow.

bidet

It was a distinct possibility

The hose pipe shuddered in my hands and I pushed it deeper into the hole to seal it and it moved, about 20 centimetres, so I shoved it again and again. I silently prayed that the kitchen was not being turned into a disaster area and the poo was really going in the direction I wanted it to go.

tigger_dance_10_w640

Happy days

I am sure you are pleased that there is an happy ending to this post. When Mrs Sensible turned off the water, the pipe was completely clear. The Pecora Nera house is now back to normal, or as normal as it ever is.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

Shh and Sit down!

Mario, please take your finger out of your nose.

Eduardo, please sit down.

Mario, take your finger out of Giuseppe’s nose.

Eduardo, please sit down!

Maria, stop kissing Daniele, I don’t think he really likes it.

Eduardo, Sit Down!

Mario!!!! Please don’t eat it….

And so began my first lesson teaching a class of seventeen 4 & 5 year olds.

After one hour I was utterly exhausted and needed a stiff grappa to get me through the rest of the day.

I regularly teach English to children aged between 8 and 12, and it is normally great fun, I even have two classes of 6 year olds but the difference between a 6 year old and a 5 year old is astonishing.

In two seconds flat they can close their eyes and fall into a deep slumber right before my eyes….

Claudia, count to ten. 1… 2 …. 3 ….5……6 …..Zzzzzz

Teaching children has certainly changed since I was a chilblain, I vividly remember how adept my teacher was with the use of the ruler on a set of knuckles or how Mr Fearn could silence a class for the whole year by simply slippering one child on the first day of term.

I get a real buzz from teaching children (with the exclusion of children who eat their own bogies).

A couple of weeks ago I was writing a sentence on the blackboard, as I took a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure the kids were behaving I managed to catch a little six year old girl licking the top of her desk!!!

My tummy flipped twice, I looked at her and wagged my finger, she stared at me with big blue eyes and her tongue still hanging out… Bless her

At the moment I am gearing up for our English Summer Camp. Over a period of two weeks 46 children will descend on our house and sleep in two massive tents that have been provided by the local civil protection service.

Last year was our first year and we started off with 29 children over the two weeks…

Hopefully this year the kids will have as much fun.

A Windy Day & Turkish Delight 😜

A Windy Day & Turkish Delight 😜

Let me start by saying I have just finished a second course of antibiotics to try and kick a chest infection.  I still have the cough and now thanks to the antibiotics I have a really bad case of wind. 

Nobody was safe from the wind

As we walked to the office of the prefecture I was not only worried about my application for Italian citizenship, but also my precarious medical condition.  I am not sure if my interpreter knew I kept randomly exploding, if she did, she never said anything.

The Office of Sig.ra helpful

The meeting went really well, Sig.na Helpful ( the women in the office) decided I could write a self certificate declaring that when I was a baby in Malta I wasn’t a   Cereal Killer or criminal.

The milk had better be warm today


Sig.na Helpful asked if she could see my original documents, I whispered to Mrs Interpreter that my original documents are languishing in some office in the U.K. and hopefully they will receive the apostille stamp and be back here in ten days.

Sig.na Helpful asked me to sign another self certificate declaring that the photocopies of  my original documents were original photocopies !!! I know I am still trying to work that one out. maybe I lost something in the translation.

I was then asked for the marca da bollo, this is a little stamp that cost me €16. It’s at home I said! 

Marca da bollo

Don’t worry Sig.na Helpful said you can bring it in next week, or nip out and buy another one.  I couldn’t believe my luck, I had been sitting there with my stomach making curious noises and I knew there was an imminent explosion due.

I’ll be right back I said as I ran out of her office, I managed to exit the building before the wind struck.

I drove my interpreter back to her house and then headed off to Cerrina to give an English Lesson.

Because I had an hour to spare I stopped off in a bar for a coffee and a brioche. The bar looked clean and I thought it might be ok to use their toilet.

Turkish Toilet

The hole in the floor

I have lived here ten years and today was the first time I have had to balance above a Turkish Toilet  I think if you have a dress it must be easier, all the women need to do is bunch their dress up under their armpits.

If you are wearing trousers there are a multitude of problems, 1. With your trousers around your ankles it is really difficult to open your feet far enough to squat safely above the hole, 2. Attempting to maintain balance with one hand trying to hold your trousers out of danger while squatting is a nightmare.

Just as I managed to get my balance and my thigh muscles stopped shaking, I heard a click and  the fricking light went out, I was immediately plunged into darkness.

Stupid Light Sensor

Some energy conscious Italian had installed an automatic light switch!!!

Because this is a family rated blog, I can’t tell you the thoughts that ran through my mind or the words that spilled out of my mouth as I nearly tumbled down the hole.

What I will say is, trying to turn the light back on by waving with one hand in the air, whilst  trying to keep your trousers safe and maintain balance, is as easy as riding a unicycle while playing the bagpipes

A talented man

Today my thoughts are with the inventor of the Turkish Toilet and the man who set the light switch to 20 seconds, both of you have a better sense of humour than I will ever have.

Pecora Nera the Cereal Killer

Pecora Nera the Cereal Killer

I have to tell you I am crying into my glass of wine, I have just received two E mails from the Prefettura in Alessandria, allegedly they are processing my application for Italian citizenship.

The first E mail I successfully translated with the help of Google, it went something like this.

Dear Pecora Nera,

Please come to our office on the second floor,  on the 9th November at 10.30. Bring originals of the documents you submitted on line.

I was so happy I nearly kissed the cat.

Susie Stupid Pussy Cat didn’t want a kiss

And then I opened the second E mail and as Google translated the document, I nearly kicked the cat.

Dear Pecora Nera,

Please apostille stamp your documents and it is necessary to provide your police certificate.

If I kicked Mishmash, she would retaliate by taking a dump in my shoe

After talking to the prefettura (I used my neighbour for this) we found out the police certificate she wanted, should be issued by Malta. Did I mention I was born in Malta and moved to the UK when I was 8 months old?

Pecora Nera the Cereal Killer


Obviously this is going to delay my application. I hope the Maltese authorities are not aware of my juvenile crime spree and will certify I was a good boy for the 8 months that I lived there.

Digging through my mother’s photo album, I found a couple more photos of my time in Malta

Me getting ready for the midwifes visit. She always had cold hands

Taken shortly after I held up the milkman

Another successful raid on the baby food factory


Today I have sent my documents issued by the UK government back to them with a request that they validate them with a rubber stamp.

I have also E mailed Malta to ask if they provide criminal certificates for 8 month old babies.

Citizenship part 1
Citizenship part 2
I am sure there will be a part 3 & 4

Just another average day in Italy

On Monday I received a nice letter warning me that I had forgoten to pay the car tax on my little mini. I think the tax was for 2011 – 2012.  The letter gave me 60 days to pay the tax or I would be charged an additional €7.00 😱 Mrs Sensible gave me 2 days to pay it or face more dire consequences than a mere €7.00

 Every morning she has reminded me once or thrice that the bill is still OVERDUE… 

So this morning I called in at the local post office in Occimiano and tried to pay it, the really helpful woman (NOT), behind the counter told me I needed to fill in the ‘Casuale’, 


Normally you write the bill/invoice  number in Casuale but there wasn’t a bill number so I asked the unhelpful woman if I should write Soris , or Regione Piemonte or car tax? 

She shook her head, and continued to talk to her mother on the phone.

“ok cosa scrivere? ” I probably missed a few words out but I think I said, What should I write? 

She shrugged her shoulders. Of course, I had forgot there is no such thing as customer service in Italy

Google search: Italian Customer Service


With a smile I thanked her for her help and walked out.

Finding a helpful Poste Italiane worker is like finding hens teeth,  for every helpful worker there are at least 23 unhelpful workers. Mind you there are millions of post offices in Italy to choose from.

I decided to try the post office in Terrugia, and the guy was amazing, he filled out the form and took my €270.36. Which means my car is now legally taxed for the year 2011 – 2012. I not sure if I have paid  this years road tax, mind you, it has taken them 5 years to write to me. Maybe I will receive another letter in the year 2022

Ouch ! 🆘😢

Yesterday was a little cooler than normal, the cats were lazing in different parts of the garden and I decided I would find the old hosepipe so I could water my bit of mud that would soon be grass.

Susie Pussy Cat, very beautiful, very stupid


I searched in the garage and behind some boxes and then I remembered it might be in the boiler room.

I tugged the door open and as I reached for the hosepipe, I felt a sharp pain on my cheek, nowadays my reactions are not quiet as fast as they used to be, there was a time I could outrun a wasp. These little blighters managed to sting me once more on my back before I managed to run to the sanctuary of my house.

Last one to sting him buys the beers

As the cats all ran in the other direction, Mrs Sensible heard the commotion and thought at the very least I had amputated my left leg or maybe I had fallen out of the upstairs window.

As she tended my wounds, I pointed out I had only shouted ouch twice, and I had not come screaming into the house, like a cat with its tail on fire.

Wasp nest split in half


I extracted immediate vengeance on the nest with a powerful bug spray. And as you can see, they were extremely annoyed because when I opened the door I managed to split their nest into two pieces.

My neighbour came around (probably because she heard me shout ouch and ouch) and suggested I should recoperate in her swimming pool.

The best pool in miles


Which I did, although I am still sulking with  the wasps

Boys and their Toys 🚜

I had a brilliant idea, I would hire a little digger and flatten part of the garden that has been driving me mad.

When I mow the grass, it normally takes 2 to 3 hours, if the mosquitos attack me while I am cutting the grass, it can take 2 to 3 weeks and I only persevere when it becomes apparent that the cats can’t find their way home through the jungle.

My son mowing the bottom grass

One year I dug over a piece of the garden, to plant tomatoes and vegetables, ok I didn’t actually do the digging Giorgio arrived with his big tractor and dug it over for me, but I did plant the seeds and water them.

Giorgio did the digging


As you can see, the garden had a little slope and it also had holes where I had dug up various vegetables, this made mowing the grass a little dangerous, if one of the mowers wheels fell in a hole… I was doomed.

Cecil, one of the vegetables I grew

On Friday night I wandered down to the local digger hire and enquiried about hiring a little digger.

Me: I need machine one day, how much? (as you can see my Italian is improving)

Owner: Mmm, 100 Euros,  do you have a digger licence?

Me: Ha, you very funny man. I car/truck licence.

Owner: You must have a digger licence.

Me: I dig me garden, not road!!!

The owner sucked his teath and shrugged.

Fealing a little disappointed I drove home, I didn’t really blame the man for not wanting to rent one of his lovely diggers to a crazy Englishman who was wearing flip-flops and had the language ability of a five year old.

At seven a clock I received a phone call.

Hi Peter, how are you? Luigi told me, you want to hire one of his machines, I have told him I know you and he will deliver it to you at 9pm tonight, is that ok.

Me: What! Please you speak me slowly.

Pier: Digger will arrive at 9

Me: FANTASTIC

My new toy

I was so excited when the digger arrived, as I thanked the man, my mind started to wander, I started to wonder how feasible it would be to dig a swimming pool and could I do it before Mrs Sensible realised what I was doing.

I need a swimming pool

I set my alarm for 7:30am and at 8 o’clock I was tentatively driving my new toy down the garden, just as I started to enjoy myself, Pier turned up and shouted “più potenza” (you can use google translate).

He then decided to show me how to dig and flatten my garden properly, I have to admit I had mixed emotions, yes he was doing a fabulous job and he obviously knew how to operate the digger, but I was sat on the side just watching… maybe even sulking a little bit.

Pier and his broken leg


I shouted “Ok, I can see how you do it” and “Ok, let me have a go” and finally ” That hard work can’t be good for your broken leg”

Pier was having none of it, he just smiled at me and waved away my concerns.

I now have a perfectly flat piece of land for the children’s tents next year. Did I tell you about the English Summer Camp I ran last week? I might in my next post, that is if I am not digging a swimming pool.


Have a fab summer

Pecora Nera