A humorous look at bodily ills and daily woes, and tips from someone who has suffered everything from arthritis to athlete's foot.
Friday, 25 February 2011
Fishless
No fish left, just a still, dark, empty pond. There is a huge gulp in my throat every time I look at it. Down at the bottom, I can see a few pale corpses held fast by the weed, drifting silently as the wind wafts the water.
The latest plan is to fill it half way with gravel (after scooping out the huge frog that lives in the mud) and refilling it and gaining a pond that is much shallower (it's 5 ft deep because 20 years ago Mr Grumpy went mad with a mechanical digger!) and easier to look after and clean out. He's just gone out to order a ton of gravel. As for more fish... maybe.
4 comments:
That looks so dreadfully sad.
Oh dear! I'm so sorry.
The latest plan is to fill it half way with gravel (after scooping out the huge frog that lives in the mud) and refilling it and gaining a pond that is much shallower (it's 5 ft deep because 20 years ago Mr Grumpy went mad with a mechanical digger!) and easier to look after and clean out. He's just gone out to order a ton of gravel. As for more fish... maybe.
Sorry to hear about your fish :(
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