Cue The Monolith

Whoever wired our house was a gobsmacked, blathering mouth-breather.

Never mind that last November I spent two hours arranging Christmas lights on the front shrubbery (Shrubbery! ... Nee!); staged the Griswold Family turning-on-of-the-lights; and propped my shiny, perpetually adolescent, hopes up. The carn-sarned outlets on the front of our house DO NOT FUNCTION. IN ANY SENSE OF THE WORD.

After months of working on the front and side yards (getting everything neat and tidy, pruned, pulled, covered in cedar mulch and relatively weed-free), I moved on to the hard-assery of the backyard goldfish pond.

This little cesspool was designed to be the jewel of our backyard. Its placement could not be more direct. It might as well have a spotlight over it, 'kay? A little bed surrounds it; a Japanese Maple grows on its edge; perennial flowers were planted within its perimeter; and outdoor lighting was wired around it just to make the point even more direct -- if the backyard were an opera, the goldfish pond would be the diva.

The woman who lived in our house before us did NOTHING to this yard. (Hence the months I've spent on making it presentable.) Even worse, a goldfish pond takes a bit of effort -- and more than just a passing glance. It needs to be cleaned out. It needs to be maintained. The water needs to be filtered and treated every once in awhile. This one had not been touched in literally 5 years.

What's more, whoever landscaped this albatross did it with slate rock. Slate, after it's been exposed to elements, starts to fall apart in big sheets and disintegrates into little kibbles of flaky powder. Add to that layer upon layer of rotten mulch, leaves, debris and weeds cluttering the bed around the pond and when it was all said and done about a ton -- A TON -- of dead slate had to be removed; a two foot (deep AND wide) hole around a dead tree trunk had to be filled in; the ground had to be leveled; the border of the bed had to be defined (by uprooting and tossing out wayward grass); and the entire goldfish pond had to be emptied and cleaned -- a process akin to changing the dirtiest, nastiest, smelliest diaper you could possibly imagine.

Did I also mention that I don't own a backhoe? How 'bout that I was working alone? (And don't give Tef any crap about this. He's more than happy to leave me alone in my yard. He makes the mortgage payment. I make the place pretty. I would highly recommend this arrangement.) That the wheelbarrow used to haul the tons of dead flora and fauna to the curb had a FLAT TIRE? ... And has anyone else noticed how razza-frackin' HOT it's been lately?

YEAH.

Sooooo.... The hard work was done. I decided to buy some stone to replace the slate: River Jack; round stuff; you know, pretty. The Big Box Home Improvement stores don't carry it. I had to call a Specialist. I ordered TWO TONS. With delivery charges, this set me back $400. I placed out the new stone (gorgeous); ran fresh water into the pond and treated it for crud. I plugged up the fountain feature.

*cue the monolith*

It worked. But the "waterfall" effect I'd tried to create didn't come off so well. The fountain/filter in the center diverted most of the liquid and my "waterfall" was more of a water "trickle". Guess it's waterfall or fountain, can't do both. Okay... Pulled out the waterfall stones. Ripped out the waterfall pump thingie. Dispersed the stones from the waterfall wall into the border of the pond. Plugged in the fountain filter.

*cue the monolith*

It worked.

You've never seen a girl so astoundingly happy.

But the next morning the flinga-flammin' lawn sprinklers didn't come on. CARN-SARN IT!!!! The fountain and the sprinklers run from the same circuit and apparently the breeze that morning had been a little stronger than usual (she said without a hint of smugness).

Maybe if I put it on a timer? Nope, timer sucked too much juice from the circuit and shorted it out.

Maybe if I plug and unplug the fountain morning and evening? Nope, screwed up the fuse and knocked the sprinklers out again.

Maybe if I stand on one foot, bind a poppet to its edge and ask it nicely? Nope, the presumption of compliance knocked the fuse out.

Maybe if we just leave it on? Eh... Seemed okay...

Maybe... Alright... I was sorta' shelled shocked and apprehensive. I didn't know if I could trust this thing.

But it's still running... and the sprinklers are still working... Okay...

So after a week of dumbly believing the Devil in the Backyard, I decided the thing to complete my goldfish pond would be... actual goldfish. (Not koi. They're $15 a pop. I don't love the neighbors' cats that much.) Popped down to the PetSmart and got 6 of 'em -- the little $3.99 jobbies (cute little buggers, too). And not the regular ol' boring goldfish either. Just ornamental enough to be pretty, but not so pricey that they ought to be on my plate instead of in my backyard; 4 orange and white, 2 black.

Brought 'em home. Got 'em settled in. Fed 'em. They seemed happy (if goldfish can be happy). One went missing within 24 hours, but that's sort of expected. So we watched and waited. After a week and-a-half, everyone else seemed to want to stay.

So.

We had pets; outdoor, low maintenance pets. But the Devil in the Backyard had only been biding his time.

Came home last night to a goldfish in the trashcan (thank you, Husband, for letting me down easy). Went outside to figure which one it was (which is still a bit of a mystery -- long story) and did some fiddling with the fountain. It was spilling water out of the pond and greatly reducing the levels. (Poor little goldfish were sweating in 2 feet of warm H2O.)

Tried to turn the nozzle on the fountain to pull its spew height down a bit. Got drenched with pond water -- hair and all -- in my work clothes. (Granted, I AM an idiot... But...)

So:
unplugged the fountain
moved some stuff around on the floor of the pond
got some goldfish kissies on the tips of my fingers from the black goldfish (cutie pie!)
got the fountain height where I wanted it (after about 10 attempts of plugging and unplugging)
brushed myself off, still dripping from the bangs
plugged the fountain in
no dice
unplugged
plugged
reset fuse
plugged
unplugged
cursed
reset fuse
shorted out sprinklers
reset fuse
plugged
unplugged
cursed
reset fuse
CURSED
plugged
unplugged
CARN-SARN IT!!!!!!!!

Stormed upstairs and showered the lovely pond water out of my hair. Wrapped myself in a towel, turban-ed my hair, and stormed downstairs to Tef (who was trying to relax on the couch after 3 bouts of having to reset the fuse and find an alternate way to make the razza-frackin' sprinklers work -- BECAUSE THE FLAPPA'FLUKIN' CIRCUIT SHORTED -- AGAIN!). Stood between him and the television and began to rant.

Toothbrush in mouth, "I'm going to PetSmart tomorrow and buying an aquarium and we're moving the goldfish inside!" *brusha' brusha' brusha'* "Then I'm ripping out that *bleep* goldfish pond and filling it with sand." *brusha' brusha'* "Then we're gonna' put in white pebble rock and make a *bleep* Zen garden back there." *gesturing wildly, toothpaste flecks flying haphazardly* "I am through with that *bleep, bleep, bleep* backyard and I am sorry -- SORRY! -- I ever set foot out there!!!!" *brusha' brusha' fume fume brusha' mumble brusha'*

Tef just nodded and shrugged. He'd seen this movie before: Crazy Lady in the Towel has shown at our house at least thrice now.

It could be worse.

Way worse.

Much worse.

But I'm still fuming.