I went and bought new pumps for all of them, changed into my paint clothes and started hauling goldfish and frogs out of the pond. Ken likes to plan all activities at least two weeks out but I wasn't having any of that. The outside temperature had dropped to 88 degrees, here in late September where the devil came down to Georgia and it's always Summer, rarely Christmas and never Fall. My Home Depot card needed exercising and I was feeling ambitious.
Ken came around the corner shaking his head, about the time I got down to the sludge at the bottom of the pond. I pitifully asked if he could help me. How could he refuse? I had mud from head to toe, aquatic animals in numerous buckets, and water hyacinths laying all over his lawn. He and my daughter dispatched the rest of the pond problems, hauled the concrete fountain pieces around until they were right, and then fixed the porch fixture. At last, we had water running through all three fountains. Believe it or not, none of the new pumps had to be used, though now I've got to piece those together and take them back. Ken was the hero of the day, with several cheapskate hacks and tricks to get everything going. It's three days later and I still have mud in my pedicure. I was raised a country girl. I think something has happened since then.
Today I took our eight-month-old grandson onto the porch, where he gleefully laughed at the water splashing. I noticed that the pond had drained almost completely dry. Again. At least the goldfish and frogs are still in their containers. That devil's definitely still down here and I'm about to have a come-to-Jesus meeting with him.
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