Pickle Boy

OK, several of you have emailed and asked me why my mom and others in the family call Jeremy "Pickle." As you can guess it's a somewhat embarassing story, because that's just how most in my family get a nickname. So, I thought I'd just post an answer for one and all to read. A couple weeks after Jeremy got home from Iraq it was Thanksgiving weekend. My folks, my sister, and I had decided to spend that weekend up at their cabin in Taylor. Jeremy was invited to join us. The cabin had been closed for winter after hunting season in October, but the only real inconvenience was there was no running water. We all brought in several gallon jugs of water to drink and cook with, but to flush the toilet you had to melt snow. The second day we were there Jeremy went to my dad and asked him how much snow he needed to melt. My dad's response was, "how big of a pickle are you going to drop?" And, thus, my mom started calling him Pickle.


In other news, it looks like the septic problem is fixed. Turned out the tank wasn't full, but the problem had something to do with a tree root, a busted line, and the angle of the lines coming off the dishwasher and sink. They aren't fixing the lines coming off the dishwasher or sink. But, they did dig up a pretty good sized hole in the front yard where the tree root had busted the line. Kind of weird since there isn't a tree anywhere in the front yard...I believe they're coming back out today with a backhoe to dig out by the tank and then they're going to pour some concrete in the hole in the front yard. Doesn't really matter to me, all I care about is that the house doesn't stink anymore!