The Pits
Yesterday was the pits. At least that was what the email I received implied.
"I shall be arriving at 10 am to start digging trial pits," wrote the contamination expert. I'm not sure quite what I was expecting; some kind of lunar landscape interspersed with deep craters perhaps. Oh well if we haven't been able to get away and fly to the moon or indeed anywhere, creating the effect in your back garden might just have the same impact and without all the hassle of airport check-ins.
In the end, however, the work was far less intrusive. Fear the worst and hope for the best they say. Directly attributable to a month or more of detection work by Mister E and me, as well as too much time spent on hands and knees sniffing in strange corners, I'm pleased to say that we were able to direct the expert and his shovel to within a couple of feet of striking oil. It wasn't quite a spout bursting from the core of the earth but, drilling down and scraping away, he found the trickle that's at the heart of our problem.
It's a beginning not the end but for the first time in two very long months I feel able to breathe freely again. The retirement path, like the rest of life, isn't always smooth but it's how you cope with the pitfalls that matters. Obviously we'd rather not have this issue but on a positive note we do now know part of what we are contending with and are confident that, with the assistance of the loss adjusters and contamination specialists, a remediation strategy can be implemented.
(Image by Mohamed Hassan from Pixabay)
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