The septic system went in last June at the lot where my wife and I are building a lake cottage this summer. As you read this, the cottage (if all has gone well) is nearly complete. As I write this, in mid-April, we’re a few days away from the ceremonial groundbreaking (snow-breaking?) with our kids.

I am contemplating quiet evenings on the screen porch, pre-dawn hours probing the rock bars for walleyes — and septic system questions. The tank is there, the chambers laid, the system all permitted and landscaped. Yet the job isn’t really done.

Managing water

First question: What will we do about water usage? My wife grew up on a farm but has lived in a town since she was about 18. I was a town kid — I remember just a few struggles my father had with a septic tank before the city hooked us to the sewers when I was in early grade school. And Noelle and I have always lived in town.

So I am guessing that our water-use habits will need some adjusting, perhaps easy for me, being frugal by nature, but not for the female of the species. We sized our system for a three-bedroom home, which basically means four people, and it’ll just be the two of us (other than when we have company), but still.

Here I’m thinking seriously about taking the advice of Roger Machmeier, the Septic System Answer Man in this magazine’s sister publication, Pumper. For years Roger has said every house on a septic system should have a water meter. It’s hard to argue with him: How else do you know if you’re living within the system’s means?

Roger figures it will cost about $100 to buy the meter and have the plumber install it. The trick is, if possible, to install it so that it only records what comes into the cottage, not what we might spray around from the outside faucets.

OK, it costs a little. But think of the arguments it can prevent. If I want to come at Noelle about taking too long a shower or running too much water while washing dishes, at least I can come at her with data. And it works in reverse, too: Maybe when I question her habits and she tells me to check the meter, the facts will be on her side.

So a water meter definitely looks like a good idea.

Caring for the system

Then there’s the matter of system maintenance — and that pesky thing our septic tank already contains, and that Wisconsin law requires: an effluent filter. Again, it’s something very hard to argue against, and anyway you can’t argue with the law.

There’s a high-water alarm in the tank that will ring in the cottage if the filter gets plugged or if the tank gets full or (heaven forbid) for some other reason. But the last thing I want is for that alarm to sound. And even though I work in the onsite industry, I am not so sure I want to be in charge of pulling and hosing the filter.

So I am thinking two words: maintenance contract. I would love to find a pumper in the area who will bill me some regular monthly or quarterly fee in return for checking on my system as needed during the year, cleaning the filter, looking down the inspection ports, and pumping the tank when needed. It’s getting to be time to check the Yellow Pages and make some calls.

Need a cover-up?

Then what about those inspection ports? Do we want to look at them? Maybe they’re OK. But what about the green lids on the two tank risers? Should we cover them with something decorative? Like maybe the cedar-ringed planter outfits I saw at the last Pumper & Cleaner Expo? Maybe three hundred bucks by the time we’re done — but visually worth it? We’ll see.

And then there’s that drainfield, nicely planted last fall in no-mow grass, and surrounded by prolific oak, white pine, hemlock, maple and birch trees. I don’t imagine I will want trees growing on the drainfield and sending roots down to do all sorts of violence to my trenches. So I suppose I’ll need to add periodic tree seedling removal to my list of chores.

And finally, what to tell guests? My family members, and Noelle’s, are city folk. Maybe I’d better have a sign above the commode in the bathrooms:

Caution:

Drains to Septic System

If it isn’t toilet paper,

don’t flush it.

Or some such thing. We hope to have a lot of company. I would sure hate to see our visitors sending all the wrong sorts of goodies out to our tank. I also don’t want to have to make a great big deal about it.

So, those are the thoughts I’m entertaining, along with those reveries of quiet evenings by the campfire, and early-morning vistas of mist rising from the lake.