Relative Something

*this* John W. Hays' take on things and experiences

Direct Hit

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DSCN4749eHaven’t swept up the cuttings yet.

What I did do was show Cyndie how I reach the input screen on the pond pump to clean it. It has needed attention about every other day, and I think I know why. A couple weeks ago I finally cut down a dead pine tree over the pond and suddenly there is a lot more sunlight inspiring green growth in the water.

My method of stretching into the water to reach the pump filter is a far cry from graceful or efficient, but it works for me. It involves some precarious balancing while reaching to my limit, so it makes more sense to me to just do it and not bother Cyndie with finding a way she would be able to take care of the chore.

Still, she asked to see my method and tagged along behind me out the deck door last night. I pulled up my sleeve, got down on my knees and placed my right hand on a distant rock at the far limit of my reach. Leaning precariously away from dry surfaces, I stretch to get a finger on the plastic media that surrounds the pump inlet. When I get it slid off, I toss it behind me onto the rocks as quick as I can, in order to restore enough balance to avoid an unwanted bath.

I was so focused on what I was doing that I had neglected to notice that Cyndie had positioned herself directly in the spot where I always fling the slimy filter. It is heavy, soaking wet, green, stinky, and entirely nasty. I nailed her with it, right on the shoe, soaking her pants, and sock with green stink.


Not quite the way to treat a spouse who is making an effort to find out if there is a way she can help.

If you need me for anything and can’t reach me, it’s probably because I’m off searching of my dunce cap. I must have several stashed around here somewhere.












Written by johnwhays

May 18, 2016 at 6:00 am

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