Island living

Beautiful cold clear frosty morning. When I went outside to dump the coffee grounds in the compost, my nose started twitching. Sewage. Whoops.

We live in a 'rural' area on Guernsey. Rural means a) that we're not actually in a cluster of houses and even have a field between us and our nearest neighbour and b) that we're not on the main drainage system. So our waste water goes into a cess pit which has to be emptied periodically. Before it overflows, preferably.

I peeped round the corner in the direction of the smell. I knew the tank was full and we had had a lot of rain recently: fields were flooded and the douits - the drainage ditches - had filled up after a very dry autumn. We had ordered the sewage truck to empty the pit but sometimes it would take some days to come, depending on its schedule.

The cover to the pit was open, with a sewage pipe lying next to it. Hence the smell. No sign of the sewage truck. Oh well, it had probably nipped off to empty a load and would, presumably, be back to fill up again and to collect its pipe.

There are many other benefits to living here. This has to be one of my favourites. It reminds me of my life back in Africa. Not taking anything for granted - particularly waste disposal.