No-bake Foundry Equipment - 0 views

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  #1 Brady Mendez on 24 Mar 12

   

  Thirty minutes later, and my property is quiet again.
  
  Another two hours in addition to a small team of men are back at work. Wooden boards are put in a path across my war-torn lawn to help protect what's left from the grind of impending excavator monitors. The industrial-yellow monstrosity labors it's way up my yard towards one more showdown with the cavernous remains of obsolete septic tank. The bulk of the underground tank is covered by another mulched and landscaped flowerbed. The mulch is pushed inside piles. The black, fabric, weed barrier is toned up in uneven signs. The dirt and plants are dislodged and cast aside. The top of this long-buried septic tank is exposed to Florida sunlight and air for when since my house was built four years ago. Then the destruction will start.
  
  The excavator balances itself and commences pounding and ripping at the black plastic septic tank with raw, battering, force its toothed claw can gather. Repeated blows crush and shatter the septic tank, bringing an immediate and permanent end to its short-lived existence.
  
  Along with the destruction complete, the excavator speeds down my driveway, and down the street, until it's out involving sight. Seconds later it returns using a payload of clean sand filling its front-end loader bucket. The sand is dumped into the hole where the septic tank was previously. I'm not sure where the sand is coming with, but six identical trip are made, and six loads involving sand finally cover the fragments of plastic debris which once served some sort of noble cause.
  
  Your landscaping is patched again together. The plants are approximately returned to their original locations. The weed barrier, now a death-shroud of sorts, is pushed back into place and covered with the piles of mulch.
  
  The septic tank often have met a violent end, but at least it received a proper burial.
  
  Day Three
  
  For three days the workers are coming and going, on autopilot, completing the job I've paid them to do.
  
  There are still three open holes facing my house awaiting that arrival of city inspectors. The work must be scrutinized with regard to compliance with city codes prior to the evidence can be hidden.
  
  I'm not sure when the inspectors arrived, or what they did once they got there, but sometime in the early afternoon the plumbers returned to finally complete the job. The open holes are generally filled and an effort is made to reduce the visible impact of the work that's been accomplished.
  
  Before these people leave, one of the men prominently places a sign in my front garden. Another Professional Sewer Get together By R. L. Wilson Plumbing. I wait until your truck drives away, then i promptly walk outside, pick out the sign, and throw it in the garage with the rest of my weekly trash. Don't get me wrong, R. L. Wilson did a good job and completed everything I paid them to do... it's just that my property has suffered enough indignity within the last 12 months. It doesn't need any longer. My front yard will serve for a billboard for no an individual.
  
  This Aftermath
  
  continuous sand mixer, continuous sand mixers, core shooter
  

   

  <div class="cArrow"> </div><div class="cContentInner">Thirty minutes later, and my property is quiet again. <br /> <br /> Another two hours in addition to a small team of men are back at work. Wooden boards are put in a path across my war-torn lawn to help protect what's left from the grind of impending excavator monitors. The industrial-yellow monstrosity labors it's way up my yard towards one more showdown with the cavernous remains of obsolete septic tank. The bulk of the underground tank is covered by another mulched and landscaped flowerbed. The mulch is pushed inside piles. The black, fabric, weed barrier is toned up in uneven signs. The dirt and plants are dislodged and cast aside. The top of this long-buried septic tank is exposed to Florida sunlight and air for when since my house was built four years ago. Then the destruction will start. <br /> <br /> The excavator balances itself and commences pounding and ripping at the black plastic septic tank with raw, battering, force its toothed claw can gather. Repeated blows crush and shatter the septic tank, bringing an immediate and permanent end to its short-lived existence. <br /> <br /> Along with the destruction complete, the excavator speeds down my driveway, and down the street, until it's out involving sight. Seconds later it returns using a payload of clean sand filling its front-end loader bucket. The sand is dumped into the hole where the septic tank was previously. I'm not sure where the sand is coming with, but six identical trip are made, and six loads involving sand finally cover the fragments of plastic debris which once served some sort of noble cause. <br /> <br /> Your landscaping is patched again together. The plants are approximately returned to their original locations. The weed barrier, now a death-shroud of sorts, is pushed back into place and covered with the piles of mulch. <br /> <br /> The septic tank often have met a violent end, but at least it received a proper burial. <br /> <br /> <b> Day Three </b> <br /> <br /> For three days the workers are coming and going, on autopilot, completing the job I've paid them to do. <br /> <br /> There are still three open holes facing my house awaiting that arrival of city inspectors. The work must be scrutinized with regard to compliance with city codes prior to the evidence can be hidden. <br /> <br /> I'm not sure when the inspectors arrived, or what they did once they got there, but sometime in the early afternoon the plumbers returned to finally complete the job. The open holes are generally filled and an effort is made to reduce the visible impact of the work that's been accomplished. <br /> <br /> Before these people leave, one of the men prominently places a sign in my front garden. Another Professional Sewer Get together By R. L. Wilson Plumbing. I wait until your truck drives away, then i promptly walk outside, pick out the sign, and throw it in the garage with the rest of my weekly trash. Don't get me wrong, R. L. Wilson did a good job and completed everything I paid them to do... it's just that my property has suffered enough indignity within the last 12 months. It doesn't need any longer. <i> My front yard will serve for a billboard for no an individual. </i> <br /> <br /> <b> This Aftermath </b> <br /> <br /><a rel="nofollow" href="http://maps.google.com/maps/place?hl=en&gs_upl=2328l2360l1l3393l2l1l1l0l1l0l973l973l6-1l2l0&bav=on.2,or.r_gc.r_pw.,cf.osb&biw=1440&bih=741&um=1&ie=UTF-8&q=tinker+omega&fb=1&gl=us&hq=tinker+omega&cid=8041113945980371169&ei=ohYPT-z9F4Ol2AWhk8DfAg&sa=X&oi=local_result&ct=map-marker-link&resnum=1&ved=0CCsQrwswAA">continuous sand mixer</a>, <a rel="nofollow" href="http://www.tinkeromega.com">continuous sand mixers</a>, <a rel="nofollow" href="http://www.tinkeromega.com/can/to_abt_pro.html">core shooter</a><br /></div>

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