Can I borrow your anteater?
The conclusion was foregone, inevitable, predictable. What with the onset of warm weather, and a need to look out and see my own private lake, I went to the pool store this afternoon. Some time (perhaps as early as next weekend) a professional team will arrive with the necessary tools and tradecraft, and within the day I’ll be ready to start refilling the restored basin.
I had weighed the alternatives. After careful study, I decided that a “do it myself” approach would only lead to an expensive mess, visible to all who passed by. I tried selling off the assets, but that was ineffective. I offered the project to my son, who realized that father might know best (and so he declined).
I lay in bed, visualizing the steps to a decommissioning. So many tiny nuts and bolts, and a pile of scrap metal that would not endear me to the neighbours. And so with an air of acceptance, I agreed to pay (pay, pay) so others might play (play, play). And they’d better! I want this pool to be a highlight of the summer.
Oddly, the nearest neighbour stopped by, to see if I might have pool parts to pass along. Had he read my mind? Only hours too late…
I’ve also learned more than I want to know about eradication of ant colonies. Yes, a small tactical device would work, but it might excite that same neighbour (loud noises, etc). I live far north of the Mason-Dixon line, so my local grocery doesn’t stock corn meal (another ant killer, along with being a cause of heart ailments (grits, boy!). There’s no borax to mix with the peanut butter, and I don’t want to Raid the back yard. Maybe I can borrow an echidna.
