Fixing the pool and wearing your underwear on the outside ….


Our house has a pool.

I am not sure if you have a pool, but we have been lucky enough to have a pool in the last two houses we have lived in.

I never had a pool growing up, so am still thankful that we get to have one.  I used to swim, but now that I feel like I could body double for Orca, I am less inclined to emerge myself in water with anyone watching.

The kids however love the pool – and get use out of it for a good 6 months of the year.

Pools are great.  For kids.

I have always avoided having anything to do with the maintenance of the pool.  I used the theory that I seemed to be involved in so much else, I would use the tactic of not “understanding” the way the pool worked to avoid it being my responsibility.

I know it is not helluva confusing or difficult, I just wanted it to remain Kennith’s responsibility.

When ever he spoke to me about the pool, I had that blank expression, like I was no longer understanding English and would mutter something like ¿No habla(s) inglés? while shrugging.

It seemed to work, and the reality is that I never had to touch the pool.

Kennith moved out on the 1 March, he has popped in now and then and has done something in the corner by the pool pump.  I decided – clearly rather short sightedly – to continue my absolute embargo on taking on any information regarding the pool.

The pool turned a pond green about three weeks ago, and I sort of figured if I ignored it, it would turn blue.

I was not going to stand for tantrums from this pool just for some attention. No sirree.

Pool got greener and greener.

On Friday I went along and stared at the pool pump. I took off the cover and stared at it some more.

It was not dissimilar from when your car does not work, and after turning the ignition key a few dozen times, swearing like a pirate, you go over pop the hood of the car, look at the engine. Sort of push on one or two things, and think somehow you are going to know how to fix the car.

I did pretty much the same thing.

I really was hoping for a button that said “push me and it will work again.”

No button like that.  I checked.

I switched things on, off, turned dials — no idea what I was doing.

Pool remained green, creepy lay there like a dead and lifeless non-sucking thing at the bottom of the green ooze.

Today I thought I would go and push buttons, but it rained a storm today.  So instead I stared at the pool through the window and thought “fuck, I will need to call in a pool guy…”

It stopped raining for a bit, and I went out to the pool pump.


To cut a long and wet story short, it turned out there was a plastic bag stuck in the creepy, I got that out, and then noticed that the pump sounded different, and the valve on the side of the pool suddenly had a bit more suck and spit to it.

It took a while, but creepy got a bit of a life and started sucking away.

I can’t recall the last time I was so proud.  Of my pool maintenance skills.

I have a feeling there are going to be many occassions like this where I stand and wonder if I should just call Kennith and he can come and fix this, or I should rather stand there for three days and curse it under my breath before I go and actually see if I can actually fix it.

I must say I felt quite invincible today.  Like I had a cape, some yellow tights and wore my underwear on the outside.

I am still looking at my creepy rather fondly, as if somehow it was because of me that he now lives.

Tomorrow it is leaping tall buildings in one bound.