Algae Soup

Our pond, like all ponds, is a continuing saga. Ponds are like that. You think you'll dig a hole, put in a liner, fill it with water, toss in a few plants and sit back in the hammock with a cold soda and reap the fruits of your labor. Then you find you've signed up for a starring role in Mother Nature's soap opera. Solve one pond problem, enjoy the result, and wait for another dilemna to present itself.

When our pond finally thawed, it was mucky with decomposed leaves from last Fall. Then Zelda, who uses the pond as a giant waterbowl, manifested a bacterial infection around her muzzle so we drained all the water from our small pond as a precaution. Sounds simple, yes? Move the outlet hose, ditch the soil, hurriedly extend it with makeshift board-and-plastic-bag channel when it begins flooding, ditch more dirt, try and keep the dogs away from the mud, try to keep your shoes out of the mud...breathe a humungous sigh of relief when you're finished. Filled with clean water last February, it stayed gloriously clear for weeks and weeks. Then visibility gradually disappeared until we could barely see any rocks deeper than eight inches down. The algae were happy with the warm weather and we knew another cleanup was in our immediate future.

So here is our Spring pond in all its green glory--when I can no longer stand to look at it and begin wondering which dog will get an infection first.
A trip to the pond store for ten more feet of hose compatible with our pump and we were able to start emptying it--this time right onto the lawn, no ditching necessary.
Yes, I realize I need more rocks to cover the liner and no, maybe we didn't quite pump out all the dirty water...still, we did okay.

The result is a much clearer pond (although this photo doesn't do it justice) and cleaner rocks. Please notice that some flowers survived the winter and our grass is Irish green.The froggies are still out there croaking in enjoyment and I've bought myself some breathing space as I reinvent the filter and discharge system. (Did I mention that as a puppy, Zelda ate part of the filter liner as cheap afternoon entertainment last Fall and caused a leak?) Then I plan to sit in the new viewing area and enjoy the result. Because they say that once your pond achieves equilibrium, it's fairly easy to upkeep. Of course, they don't say how long that might take...

How I Spent My Spring Break

I laid sod--ahhhh, lovely instant gratification. Here it is in all its tall fescue fabulousness, no longer dormant ocher, actually growing tall and protected from canine mischief by chicken wire, bedsprings, spare agility equipment and miscellaneous boards and plywood. Which so far, the dogs have mostly respected.

This little strip struggled to overcome a simultaneous battering by Golden-puppy paws (large variety) and a lack of irrigation due to the Fence Project That Lasted Forever. It lost.

The dogs didn't mind and thought we'd installed dirt specifically for their digging pleasure. Eventually the little strip, dotted by dog-dug craters, resembled a bombing range. Both dogs delighted in a canine version of spa treatments--pond-water soaks followed immediately by a leisurely roll in fluffy dirt. I guess you have to a dog to understand the allure. It drove me nuts.

This winter didn't include much snow, unfortunately, so the powder room sink looked like this for months each time the diggity dogs came inside.Have I mentioned how much I lurve sod?

It's like a cheap (I spent less than forty bucks on fourteen rolls) miracle and IT'S NOT DIRT! Life is good.

May Day

New batteries in my camera. Life is good.

Spring has arrived. Each day brings a new blossom. Or darling new leaves on a branch tired of winter. Or a glorious new shade of tender green replacing ocher in a corner of the garden.

The male robin has kept busy attacking those evil window reflections that might steal away his ladylove and pooping liberally on all three cars parked in the driveway--what is THAT about?? Some sort of robin baptism or a personal objection to the enormous wheeled birds ready to filch his girlfriend?

Gold finches have brazenly claimed the pond as their own personal watering hole and gotten away with it. They're so small that the doggies don't notice (and chase) them like the mourning doves. A scrub jay takes his daily bath right where the little rivulet enters the shallow end of the pond.

Warning: It's that time of year when I get my annual attack of Spring Fever and this becomes a Garden Blog!

Fireworks

I'm listening to fireworks--it's the Aces first home game in their new (and gorgeous) ballpark. This opening game sold out!

I remember my very first Major League game ever. We lucked into some free tickets to an Angels game and were hooked. The field was surprisingly green and clay-red! I discovered that TV just doesn't begin to capture the feel. We've watched some great games but especially loved the ones that went to extra innings. They meant late bedtimes, but we never left before the contest was settled. We even took Pierre as a baby (he was born in sight of the park).

Life with kids and jobs got busy and we didn't get back to baseball until we moved north and emptied our nest. As lifelong Giants fans, we climbed on BART and experienced PacBell Park sans car and parking. Very cool. There's not a bad seat anywhere in it either.

We continued our "new" ballpark tour in San Diego and had the dubious pleasure of trying to explain the rules to co-workers from Spain, China, Turkey and Serbia. And yes, we were really out in left field at Petco, but the crowd's energy was awesome.

I'm excited that we have a Triple A team now. Guess what we'll be splurging on this summer?

Good luck, Aces!

Vanishing Turtles

Behold, this week's turtlenecks, all ironed and ready to put away. I'm tired of wearing them. They're b-o-r-i-n-g.

It's Spring and I want to swap my uninspiring turtles for something perkier. Shirts--no, blouses--that are light, short-sleeved, collarless, and different. I long for floral prints. I yearn for buttons. I deserve some body-hugging, slimming darts, darn it! I want to unearth my collection of t-shirts from New Mexico, my soccer tees, my unparalleled collection of Roxy tees (thank you, Costco).

If I pack up the turtlenecks and stock my drawer with cute, feminine shirts during Spring Break, am I tempting Mother Nature to turn nasty and extend winter? I'm desperate for change!

Trying Not To Count

Spring in northern Nevada is like the poems my kids wrote in sixth grade:

S - Snow
P - Perfect Weather
R - Rain
I - Ice on the pond again
N - Nice day
G - Gale-force winds.

At least all that weather didn't occur on one day, just one week. Progress, of a sort.

G might also stand for Grumpy. I'm grumpy with the kids, they're grumpy with each other, we all want to be somewhere else...somewhere warm. Could Spring Break please hurry up and arrive?

I love my job (a lot). But right now I don't want to be there. If the weather was warm and sunny, y'know, good gardening weather, I'd be dying. As it is, I managed to lay ten rolls of sod today and was more than happy to come inside when I was finished. See, I knew there was a silver lining to our cold, windy, grey weather.

We have two more days of school and I have to force myself to get up in the morning, to go out the front door and head off to school, to keep myself heading west instead of turning tail and coming back to my warm cozy bed. I've even been inventing possible excuses to take a sick day--allergies, sinuses, lethargy, exhaustion--I actually have all of the above, but I still feel good, almost healthy, darn it.

I need a wheezy breath that sounds like second cousin to an accordion. Or one of those deep hacking coughing spells. Something to impress someone enough that they'd believe me when I say I just can't make it to work.

I guess I'll just have to survive another two days somehow.

Kharma 1 - Family 0

What's for dinner when the cupboard's bare? It's cold and blustery out as the storm front moves closer--how about some nice chicken noodle soup? Yummy!

Take three cans of soup, open them up, dump them in the big pot and add water. Listen to the wind howl outside.

Get another big pot, fill it with water, turn the burner on high until it boils. Add some nice whole wheat noodles (because we like lots of noodles in our soup) and cook them until done.

While the two pots are cooking, defrost the very last chicken breast (because you can never have too much chicken in chicken noodle soup). Decide that you'll strain out the cooked noodles when they're done and reuse that nice hot water to boil the poultry. Think about adding chicken to the Costco list. Cut the chicken into five smaller pieces so it will cook faster.

Check the timer--the noodles still have five minutes before they're al dente--that's plenty of time to go upstairs and check email before the bell starts dinging.

Ding. Ding. Ding.

Go downstairs and transfer the cooked noodles into the simmering canned soup. Turn around to get the chicken. Look blankly at the cutting board. Why is there just a wet juicy circle on the board? Wonder outloud where the chicken went.

Notice that Kharma suddenly has a very guilty look while Zelda just looks hopeful. Put the K-dog in timeout.

Add some curry powder to the soup instead and call the guys for dinner. Try to wipe that half-exasperated, half-proud dogmom smile off your face before they ask why you're grinning.

Naughty dog! (Grin.)