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It's a mental block. Fixing messed up sewer lines can run into the Big Money. Just ask my neighbor.
The reason I bring this up is because we've been able to get pretty well acquainted with the local sewer rooter company's phone number over the past three years or so. Just about twice a year, like clockwork, Mr. Plumbing Magazine Editor has to call them out to run the sewer machine in one or the other of the house's cleanouts to remove mystery clogs. (Why do clogs always seem to appear at 6 p.m. on a weeknight or on Sunday afternoons?)
Last night's clog, though, was a little more stubborn than usual. Both the tech and I think the olive tree in the front yard may have finally managed to get its roots into the main sewer line after 41 years of trying. The snake would go in 40 or 50 feet and things would get ugly, with banging and twisting and popping and all sorts of complaints from a generally unhappy sewer machine.
He got it more-or-less cleared, though, and gave us a 90-day warranty on the job. While he took my money--again--he said I could have them come out and they'd run a camera through the lines to see what's going on.
I'm not looking forward to this. In fact, last night I woke up in a cold sweat. I was having a nightmare about giant backhoes operated by evil, slobbering, monkeys wearing Indianapolis Colts uniforms ripping out my lovely green St. Augustine grass and laughing the creepy, psychotic laugh of those clowns people hire for kids birthday parties while I ran around from one to the other throwing baskets of money at them.
Well, at least he said the video inspection will be free. I could put up a photo or two of the results when I finally get up the nerve to have it done. I'm not sure I want to know what's in there.