Pond Slime and Two Little Boys
Sometime during the early fall, our pond waterfall quit gurgling. We traipsed down to see what was going on and discovered that the pump was clogged, burned out, or just plain tired. It had quit moving the water around. We bought a replacement at Tractor Supply and just before it turned cold, we stored it in the barn. I don’t know if it is a man rule or not but it seems that most projects must hibernate in the barn for at least a year before coming to fruition. Or perhaps the man must cogitate on the business at hand for a spell. Either way, we re-found the pump over spring break and installed it in the pond.
Now, we have a nice gush of water being pumped up right behind where the goose lays her eggs every year. The water flows freely and makes the loveliest splash as it works its way down a small “river” of stones back into a small holding pond and then on out into the larger pond.
Dad spent a day or so strategically removing gunk from the little river with a long rake and placing stones in just the right spaces along the river, so that the water would pool in some spaces and overflow in others. Then he raked leaves, trash, and other smelly gunk from the small holding pond to help increase the flow to the larger pond. I helped but I made sure not to touch the nasty stuff coming up from the depths.
Our male goose was less than pleased for us to be in his space. He would hiss and honk if we got to close to his lady and the eggs. He especially did not want the guineas exploring “his” space. He would hiss and stretch out his long neck. The guineas would laugh and screech right back at him. He had to make a choice. Leave the safety of the pond to chase the guineas or let the ducks sneak in the backside and begin to swim around – using his water! What a conundrum. All the while the mother goose regally sat on her eggs and never made a noise.
On Sunday – the last day of spring break – we were all down by the pond. The boys were floating their Lego boats down the small river and catching them right before they fell into the small holding pond. They were right where boys needed to be on a sunny Easter Sunday. We were swinging back and forth on the dock while the teen was sunning on a rock. We could hear noise coming from down below but mostly we heard laughter and screaming when a boat got loose.
Between dad’s snores, I heard one say to the other, “You know if these rocks weren’t in the way, the boats would go faster.”
I poked dad to wake him up. No reaction.
I heard the definite clunk of a large rock being chunked into water. Then they raced over and got the rakes. I heard whispered conversation and some giggles.
I hollered, “Hey, what are you guys doing?”
Silence. I hollered again, “Hey, guys, what’s going on?”
“Uhhh… nothing mom. Just moving some things around to get to a boat.”
I decided to check. When I got to the river-side of the pond I saw my youngest on his belly – in his new clothes – with both hands in the water pulling out gunk as fast as he could. He held up smelly, slimy, leafy stuff in both hands and said, “Don’t worry mom, I am making the river faster.”
“You guys aren’t moving the rocks that dad put in to dam it up are you?”
Silence. “Uhhh…no, they are still in there, just in different places.”
I nodded and returned to my side of the pond and hoped that the youngest didn’t get some strange disease from the smelly ick he was raking out of the “river.”
As I sat back down, I decided that that two smelly boys was well worth the extra laundry soap or any amount of worry about a strange disease.
Now, Dad … Well, dad might have different feelings when he sees his week’s work sailing down the river!