In the Garden ...

OAFS Photo

The Missus Herself did decree, Friday evening, that the time for the annual cleaning of the pond at Chez Sarge was upon us. Though the forecast called for rain on Saturday, I was to hold myself in readiness to assist her, should the foul weather abate. Which it did, taking me rather by surprise. I had placed my money on "rain all day," the weather decided, "eff that, the fat bastard needs to get off his ass and get outside."

So I did. Discovering in the process, that once again, I'm not as young as I used to be.

After all, I'm within hailing distance of the 71st anniversary of my birth, in two and a half weeks I shall commence my 72nd orbit around the sun. For me, physical labor is a thing to be avoided, assiduously. I tire of discovering muscle groups I forgot I had.

A nice walk, at a leisurely pace, is what works for me ...

Doesn't work for The Missus Herself. Though she too doth age, and very well I might add, she has the willpower of some ancient hero. We don't stop until she stops, and she doesn't stop until the task at hand (which often includes many and sundry other tasks) is done. She is implacable and unstoppable.

The girls (LUSH and The Nuke) discovered that being in college, some sixty miles away, was not far enough to escape the demand of garden work. I do believe they both got such good grades in college by avoiding the family manse during gardening season.

I cannot avoid it as I live here. As I don't wish to be planted in said garden, I stand to and do what I'm told. Though I grumble, a lot, even though The Missus Herself does not appreciate said grumbling. I must have a nascent death wish.

Sigh ...

Anyhoo, the pond is clean, the waterfall flows yet again (it's shut down in the winter for fear the pump might freeze), and the fish seem happy. Those that survived the winter that is, far as I can tell, we lost one this year. I don't know why one or two die every year but the majority go dormant and wait for spring. They don't eat during that long period.

Hope everyone enjoyed the trip down memory lane the past two days, I know I did. Lex lives on as long as we remember him. I enjoy revisiting the old times.

One note, boron mentioned "liking the new format," uh, sorry, it was a straight copy of two old Lex posts from the Wayback Machine. It's an old format used by Lex, not sure what you liked about it boron, and I'm not sure I can (or want to) use that format going forward (first I'd have to figure out exactly what it is, also what you like about it).

So gomen nasai, no new formats for now.

In other news, it's been a week of old equipment crapping out. First the 20-something microwave decided that it had had enough. Then, the pump we use for various chores (primarily pumping out the pond each spring), also decided to retire from active duty after some 24-odd years. Also, the pump and filtration system we use on the pond is starting to get, shall we say cantankerous?

Water coming out in places it shouldn't, somehow an O-ring went missing last year when I replaced the infrared bulb (kills nasty stuff in the water) so water came blowing out the top of the machine. The Missus Herself, somehow having found the missing O-ring, in the garden mind you, asked if that might be the cause.

Why yes, yes it was. (How the hell it worked from July to November last year without gushing water remains a mystery to me.)

A number of other minor leaks were dealt with, and now it seems, for now, that this unit might last another year. I hope so, the things are bloody expensive!

Oh, one last thing, d'ya know how sometimes that last step at the bottom of the stairs can go missing? (For you young'uns maybe not, but for us old farts it does, with increasing frequency.) Anyhoo ...

Heading into the basement from the "garden work" I decided to shed my rather filthy attire there. So I headed through the bulkhead and down into the basement.

On the way, that last step vanished. I found myself falling, in what seemed like slow motion. I had one thought, "Oh dear, what now?" It seems that as I age I view my own demise with something approaching not caring, I mean I find it interesting, like last year's being on a plane which seemed determine to plunge to earth shortly after reaching altitude, a guy in the back was screaming about making fudge, or something.

I simply looked out the window, wondering what the pilot was up to, and viewed the approaching earth with something like reluctant fascination. "So this is how it ends?"

Anyhoo, my years in Korea studying a martial art did teach me something, how to fall.

Though my right elbow is sore, not the point mind you but the fleshy bit near the top of the forearm, I am in fine fettle.

But after an afternoon in the garden, everything else aches.

Tomorrow should be such fun ...

Cheers!