Stream of Consciousness, Pond of Conscience
Our pond was dying. We needed more than Governor Rick Perry's call to prayer. We needed action. (Is it possible to write a post about farm pond management that isn't dull? Probably not, but I'll give it a shot.)
"There are some punctuations that are interesting and there are some punctuations that are not... When I first began writing, I felt that writing should go on, I still do feel that it should go on but when I first began writing I was possessed by the necessity that writing should go on and if writing should go on what had colons and semi-colons to do with it, what had commas to do with it, what had periods to do with it what had small letters and capitals to do with it to do with writing going on which was at that time the most profound need I had in connection with writing. What had colons and semi-colons to do with it what had commas to do with it what had periods to do with it. What had periods to do with it. Inevitably no matter how completely I had to have writing go on, physically one had to again and again stop sometime and if one had to again and again stop sometime then periods had to exist." - Gertrude Stein
This article if you want to call it an article is actually intended for my regular and much-valued readers although frankly even die-hard Pups might find themselves taxed by what I'm fixing to relate since it is both non-political and of limited interest to urbanites and anyway like the fascinating and inimitable Miss Stein I will for once eschew commas and most other punctuation marks and allow my sentences to run on and on and on and on like those ghastly "Left Behind" movies which glamorize Armageddon and the Rapture while plot and character development take a back seat to the filmmakers' torpid proselytizing.
I'm going to discuss this relentless drought that's effecting the Lone Star State and how our farm pond was drying up fast despite the governor's showy chinwags with God the Father always the Father never the Mother and the prayers of born-again evangelicals who are convinced that their Deity needs some worshipful prodding before he'll deign to bump a few thunderclouds together and send gully-washers to drench Texas with the joyous tears of angels or whatever daffy dominionism du jour is currently wafting around the fundamentalist ether. It seemed to me that God must be tied up in another galaxy or a separate plane of existence not literally tied up because that would be silly but figuratively tied up and so Art and I elected to actually do something about replenishing the pond while a majority of Texas residents wait for the Man in the Sky to answer or not answer their plaintive cries for help.
Due to the intense heat and practically no rain the water in our supposedly spring-fed pond was disappearing faster than Baptist preachers from the lobby of a hooker convention and the only logical plan of action or at least logical from my highly caffeinated point of view was to inject a shitload of water back into the island of cracked earth and weeds that had once been the center of our pond. I could not bear the thought of our poor fish gasping for breath in unoxygenated water not to mention depriving the local wildlife of refreshing sips of aqua pura. (We rise before daybreak here and on our early morning jaunts with the dogs I have seen deer, jackrabbits, armadillos, raccoons, herons, and other creatures slaking their thirst at the pond.)
The other day at the feed store I heard an elderly man drawl: "Ahm jist a'watin' fer my pond to dry up. Cain't be too long now." The clerk responded: "Git yourself a backhoe and make the damn hole deeper." "Yep, I figure it will rain sooner or later. This mebbe the right time to dig it out good." As I overheard this exchange I was standing in line holding a thirty pound bag of fish pellets. Wait for your pond to dry up? Unthinkable!
Anyway, here's what we did and you'll probably think this is insane and maybe it is but we did it and it is done and there you have it. We decided to have municipal water or rather water from a local county cooperative piped in at a distance of a quarter mile across open pasture to the house which is set back in the woods and not visible from FM 102ScruMe since the Philistines supplying H20 are charging a cool thousand just to drop a meter along the edge of the property. For a staggering fee we hired a plumbing contractor who was not unfamiliar with pond replenishment to dig a trench from the road to the well and lay PVC pipe in both directions to and from the pump house and then more pipe back to the pond. So we have been refilling the pond with water from our well and getting chlorinated water inside the house which came with the added bonus of enhancing water pressure when one of us is taking a hot shower or doing the dishes or shaving or brushing our teeth or bathing the dogs. You would not believe how much this project has cost and frankly I am embarrassed to tell you but we are dipping into our retirement fund in order to make this happen.
This could well be my last financial extravagance before leaving this polluted planet to the tender mercies of corporate climate change deniers and mindless Tea Party puppets not that I am going anywhere anytime soon but you never really know at what moment the Grim Reaper will drop by to say howdy.
Incidentally. Three days after we started adding water I noticed baby fish tinier than minnows in the shallows and then just this morning I saw for the first time an entirely different species merrily schooling at the surface near the center on the pond. They were black on top and had silver bellies, channel catfish I'm hoping. (Oh no a comma!)
(There are more pics after the jump...)