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This week Someone interviews “Aaron the pool man” for the probable hire to maintain our pool. Unless Mr. A is outrageously expensive or unhinged in character he’s already hired in my eyes. The Lovely Neighbor and another couple on the street use him, so he comes with a good reputation.

I continually struggle between self-sufficiency and relying on others to do things for me. I prefer the former.  Alas, maintaining a gunge-free cement pond is a task most ponderous, and (so far) one I am not doing. Neither od us has the time to do it properly.  Last year in the summer heat the pool quickly went from limpid-blue to swamp-green suitable for filming “The Creature from the Black Lagoon II”. We spent a lot of energy – and money – without success. Worse, we never enjoyed the pool but only worked on it.

Unlike Hair Furor, Someone drained the swamp last month and the pool with replenished with fresh aqua frio.  Stinko. Already the heavy pollen of the spring is turning the pristine waters a suspicious green, suggesting “Creature III” is in the making.

Last weekend I spent most of Sunday (the day of rest, reportedly) trying to remove the duff from the bottom of the pool. The vacuum cleaner came undone; I was obliged to take the ‘first dip of the season’ to retrieve it. I had just enough Michigan blood in me to keep me conscious. [1] Enough is enough.  I made the executive decision we shall contact Mr. Aaron.

I hope Mr. A is willing to take on our aquatic Aegean stables.  The sand trap needs replacement as does the pool light. [2] For now I will settle with pool water comfortable enough to enter without the feeling I’m an ingredient in an organic soup.

P.S. I wrote the above a few days ago; Mr. Aaron (whose last name escapes me) showed up last night. He was late (not a good sign) but seemed competent (says Someone).  He started right away, practicing his art, adding some sort of chemicals and eliciting the gods of clean water. It all sounds promising.  I look forward to a season of carefree green-less evening dips.

P.P.S Someone says Mr. Aaron didn’t have the cliché physique seen in the “Pool Boys” genera of porn.  He paused, thought, and added “But I might like him”, which is a pretty safe bet. Any fellow who expunges algae sounds handsome in my book.

underwater

[1] Part plasma, part anti-freeze, and part beluga blood.

[2] Last year I did not dare go into the pool at night as it was not lit. There is nothing so creepy as swimming in a dark pool, sensing something evil is lurking below like Grendel’s mother, ready to pull me down to an ignominious end.

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