Dirty Jobs

One of our favorite features of our home is our pond. Actually, we have two ponds—a small upper pond and a large lower one with koi swimming in it. It’s so relaxing to sit out on the patio with a good book, listening to the waterfalls bubbling nearby.

Of course, every home amenity comes with a responsibility. I was the one who wanted a swimming pool, so I take care of the pool. And, once a year or so, DH gets to clean out the ponds and cut back any overgrown foliage. This is a relatively brief but very messy job. Actually, that doesn’t do it justice--today, he could have been on that Discovery Channel program called Dirty Jobs.

Suffice it to say there will be no photographs of this particular activity. No one sees us this dirty but each other.

The large pond wasn't bad--DH hacked away at an overgrown plant and handed chunks of it to me while he stood in hip-deep water. But when he got into the small upper pond, which had heavier mucky debris in it, he had to heave that wet, heavy goops into the wheelbarrow next to the pond. After one of those tosses, the wheelbarrow tipped over.

DH: Oops! Can you tilt that wheelbarrow back up?
TS: No.
DH: Could you try?
TS: Sure. Okay, no.
DH: Well, you have to admit that was a half-hearted effort.
TS: Sweetie, you’re thinking I have upper body strength like a man. Look at these little arms.
DH: Well . . .
TS: I’ve told you before, you should have married a woman with a big strong back, somebody like my great-grandmother Clarissa Joiner.
DH: Who?
TS: You remember her—we have that ancient picture of her. She rode on horseback from Louisiana to South Carolina while pregnant with her first of twelve children. She looked like a man. You should have married someone like that.
DH: I like being married to you better.
TS: That’s the right answer.