Of Frogs and Mud and Septic Systems

I am newly convinced that there are tiny tree frogs spontaneously generating in our soil.

It's possible they are actually climbing up from the underworld, but I don't see how. There isn't enough room in the soil for them to be climbing around in there; it's very tightly-packed clay over sandstone. The spontaneous-generation theory seems much more likely. 

The septic system is awaiting inspection on Monday.

It has rained and continues to do so. Not enough to penetrate the ground very deeply, but quite enough to turn the heaps of heavy clay around the trenches into thick, sticky, goopy mud that grabs onto your boots, adding several pounds of weight per foot.

It also sticks to the pipes you're trying to glue together, whilst standing in the mud, in the drizzling rain, trying to get enough of a grip on the slippery plastic to actually get any leverage. This is especially fun if you happen to have any strained tendons in your arms (me), or be experiencing ankle pain (DH). Yep, we're quite the fit-and-hardy team here.

I have never before closely observed a septic system-in-the-making. It's ridiculous; looks just like a puzzle toy I expect my 3-year-old niece and nephew to be playing with, only adult-size. Plastic boxes with various holes in them, into which you have to fit pipes at juuust the right angle, sometimes with the aid of elbow fittings, to fit into other box holes at the other end, and eventually into silly plastic domes-in-trenches, all connected back to a big cement box.

Come to think of it, the whole way septic systems work is weird, and kinda gross. I'll be happy to move on to another project. Even happier if it doesn't involve mud. And happier still when we finally get back to the actual home-building part of this home-building exercise.

The aforementioned big cement box, the septic tank, sits in a very large hole – one we have to use a ladder to climb in and out of. There are tiny little tree frogs down there, whom I saw jumping up at the walls, trying to get out. How the Hades did they get down there, you ask? Unless they spontaneously-generated there, I do not know. Accidentally fell over the edge, like Wile E. Coyote? (Holding up tiny signs saying "Uh, Oh," one presumes).  A rain of frogs? They appear to be burrowing beasts, but who the hell burrows six or seven feet down? They're smaller than a quarter, for cripes sake, and the ground is hard as a rock, and devoid of anything that looks like frog burrows. Incidentally, I also found them burrowing Up inside the crawl space, back when I was smoothing that out. Which could be seen as favoring the climbing-up-from-the-underworld theory, but certainly does not rule out the spontaneous generation theory. We scientific types like to be cautious about interpreting evidence.

I caught one in the septic tank hole, laboriously climbed the ladder hand-less while it determinedly poked its nose between my fingers trying to escape, and let it go in the field, but I was unable to reach three more, who ran away from me into a narrow area behind the tank where I could not fit. Eventually I put a long branch into the hole, hoping they would hop up the branch to freedom. They also appear to hide under the giant cement tank. I really need them to leave before the hole is filled back in. Who knew this business would be so emotionally fraught?