Busy Day - Lots of Pics

Back in 2001, when Heefus still lived at home, my fantastic men-folk dug me this beautiful watergarden. They dug it all by themselves with picks and shovels. We got the rocks from a friend's farm, carried them one at a time, and stacked them around the pond. It was a lot of work, but it was beautiful. It had a waterfall and a fountain.

These were our little fishies. The white one with the orange head was named Boop Boop. Then Diddum Daddum, Waddum, and Choo. All the kids would come over and I would go outside and dig up some worms. The kids would dangle the worms in the water and the fish would swim over real fast and suck them down like spaghetti...good times.

There is one drawback to trained fishies, though. One day a Blue Heron, came and stood in our little pond. When his skinny legs hit the water, our poor, unsuspecting fishies swam over to him expecting their worms. That crane sucked them down like spaghetti.

This is what the watergarden looked like yesterday, after a year of a broken pump. My awesome husband decided this might be a good day to start restoring it to its former glory, since he will be going back to Russia next week. What a guy!

The root systems from the waterlilies had tangled themselves together and taken over the entire pond.

This required the use of a machete. Umm..a machete-wielding man.


It didn't get any better when we got to this end.

Cash wants to know, "Who called the plumber?" (Props to Emily for that joke).

This mess of rotten roots and bottom-sludge had a special stench created by years of decay and fish droppings.

I will take a cue from Cowguy and try to describe this putrid odor as what one might expect emitting from the carcass of a rotting water buffalo, hollowed-out by a crocodile, which in turn, died inside said water buffalo and proceeded to be eaten by vultures who pooped all over the both of them at the beginning of the dry season on the Serengeti.

Emily wanted to help so she could get a little sun.

That lasted until she accidentally flung a bunch of muck all over the front of herself. Bye Emily!

As a reward for all of Big John's hard work, I offered to pull my top down and take him for a ride.

What were you thinking, you naughty thing?

I was going to make a joke here about grabbing his stick, but I thought that would be too juvenile.

You know, if you have to tap your brakes more than 27 times in one mile, you may be riding too close...I'm just saying. He is not angering me, though, or even annoying me. I'm just glad I'm not in front of him!

These two were facing us at a red light. I am digging that horned helmet!!

THE END