Doing it himself

My husband is home at last from sea and resting up for a few days before he decides what kind of work he will be doing around the yard for the next few weeks. I have been informed that we are to have a water feature in the front yard, and various other complimentary bits and pieces to go with it.

I am waiting anxiously with one eye on my favourite plants and the other on the bank balance.

I know he works hard out there, he drives ships and is the authority that maintains the decks, so I often wonder when he finds the time in his busy schedule to plan out in meticulous detail what is going to occupy his time during every waking hour that he spends inside his front gate.

The impending project this time is a water feature, followed up by a bit of fancy cementing to compliment the job. I might even be lucky enough to get the veranda fixed up a bit if he can fit it in, or so he says.

I’m not a fan of water features. As relaxing and  as appealing as they claim to be, they also have a tendency to attract the creatures that are looking for other smaller creatures that will be living in the water.  As far as I’m concerned, there are too many creatures living in our immediate vicinity already. I believe we should be focusing on controlling the chaos rather than attracting it to our door. So shoot me and call me a creepy-crawly party crasher.  I’m not a bushie and I don’t like to rough it. My ideal of island living, is to live in harmony with our native neighbours at a safe viewing distance. Everybody remains happy and nobody gets hurt.

In every house we have ever lived in, my husband builds a water feature. They have steadily gotten more elaborate and expensive over a period of time and this one threatens to be his best effort yet. By the time he is finished, I fear we will almost be eligible for shares in the local hardware industry.

This brings to mind our last water feature, of course. He quickly discovered the merit of a decent and expensive mesh that goes over the surface of the water, or the local moggies would quickly make a meal out of the live catch at night, and the rest would be dive-bombed by our meat-eating feathered friends during the day. I have to say that I developed a whole new respect for precision flying while watching my husband trying to save his goldfish from getting picked off.

Then there were the pump filters and motors to worry about, and the wiring that went with it. He’s not taking any chances with that one this time, he’s already had the local electrician in a few months ago installing the low voltage wiring necessary to run not only the pumps, but the lights that are going to surround it.

I’m sure it will look fantastic when he is finished, and I’m sure he will love coming home to look at it, but I’m hoping he makes it service free and self cleaning, because there is no way I’m sticking my hands into four feet of unchartered water to check that the bits and pieces are okay.

One of the good things about this impending project is that the next door neighbour’s overhanging tree will soon be a thing of the past. If you have checked out my previous post on ‘neighbours’, you will know why I am going meekly into the mouth of the lion without a whimper. We all have our agendas.

Live and let live I say. I intend to sit back and watch the show.


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