So Bill Was Right

I have to admit that I wasn't so much on board with building the pool at first, just because it was such a HUGE purchase. Bill and I discussed it several times before making the decision to proceed, and I finally decided to defer to him since he felt so strongly that the pool would enrich our family time.

We've had it about three weeks now, and I can see now that Bill was right. The kids have been in the water nearly every evening, and we've had lots of friends and family over to help us enjoy it. It really has brought us all together, and it's even enticed Ethan and his friends away from the video games and out into the sunshine.

We actually had to wait a full week after they filled it in order for the chemicals to be adjusted, and that was torture as we were having a major heat wave. On Friday, September 3--a much cooler day, ironically--we finally took the plunge. Ethan's friend Tin captured it on video:

The next day, we had a Labor Day party with my family, and then another party with friends on the actual holiday. My sister Amy had brought a "pool warming" gift: a giant beach towel, some diving toys, kids' goggles (including a pink pair for Allyson!), and a yellow and purple dinosaur. Allyson had been begging for goggles and pool toys, but the budget was decimated after all the pool expenses, so Amy's thoughtfulness was such a blessing.

Much to Allyson's dismay, the dinosaur has been a favorite with both children and adults. On Labor Day, Bill and his friend Troy even had a jousting match on the dinosaur and a walrus toy that Troy had brought over. It was hilarious! The toys were so tippy that the guys could scarcely stay on even when they weren't bludgeoning each other with the foam noodles.

Bill and the Dinosaur Prevail

Watching Bill pitch in head first over and over, I laughed until I couldn't breathe. But then I gave it a try myself, and I hurtled over the dinosaur's head just as quickly. I was determined to ride that toy, and I finally did manage to stay on for 30 seconds or so. Allyson is the only one who can ride it with ease, probably because it was designed for a kid her size.

Now For the Big News
As you could see on the video, Allyson has learned to swim! She started out with her floaties, then swam holding onto Daddy's fingers. By last week, she was able to swim a couple of feet on her own. She did it over and over, gasping and flailing and scaring us to death. It reminded me of her determination to ride her bike a few months ago, the way she'd ride two feet and put her feet down.

She stayed at it, practicing every afternoon, and on Sunday she finally did it! She still scares me to death, but she's getting more and more proficient with each day of practice. Tonight she learned to touch the bottom (about a foot over her head) and kick herself back up. That's a skill we definitely want her to have.

I can't believe she's also diving already. That's our girl!

Ethan's Exploits
Allyson isn't the only one who scares me. Ethan's favorite pastime is strapping diving weights to his waist and crawling across the bottom of the pool. He's only 5-1/2 feet down, but it still makes me nervous!

I'm so glad I let Bill convince me to buy the pool. I know we'll be enjoying it for years to come.

Note: You have to be on my blog site to play the video. If you're reading this on Facebook, or through an email, you can view the video by clicking the link to the original post.

All But the Water

Here's how the pool looked as of my last construction update:

Over the course of the next two weeks, the dog alarm went off between 7:00 and 8:00 each morning, heralding the arrival of yet another team of workers. First, they put in the tile. It looked alarmingly tacky against the dull gray interior of the unfinished pool:

But the stone wall looked gorgeous:

Most evenings, we had an assortment of neighborhood children (plus Lola) hanging out in the pool:

We also had quite a few grownups dropping by to comment on the pool's progress, both our immediate neighbors and a few strangers. Who knew that getting a pool would be a good way to meet the neighborhood? Maybe they'll come swim with us soon.

After the stone wall came the lovely brown sugar coping around the border of the pool:

The most beautiful curves are on the back side, where no one will ever see them once the new fence goes up.

The next part was pretty interesting. They built the forms for the deck and the stairs, and then a BUNCH of guys carted in wheelbarrows of cement.

Before the concrete dried, they laid little red doormat-looking things on top to create a rock texture. Here was the end result:

At this point, Allyson took a few shots of her own, and the whole family continued to mess around in and around the pool.

Yesterday Bill was able to stop his twice daily pool watering because they finally put on the plaster. They blew in waves of blue goop, which sometimes came out in bubbly spurts and sometimes flowed out like billows of melted marshmallow.

Before they started troweling the plaster, they pulled on funny boots that were attached to little spiked platforms.

This morning, the acid team arrived. Yes, acid. Bill and I watched in fascination as they fashioned head coverings out of what looked like old T-shirts and then covered those with hats, goggles, and gas masks.

"Quick, go take some pictures!" I told Bill.

"I'm not going out there and breathing those fumes. You go get the pictures if you want them."

"I'm not wearing a bra," I answered.

"I'll go out in a little bit," he promised.

I wanted a picture of the box labeled, "Caution! Hydrochloric Acid!", so I took a picture through the kitchen window, but a cloud of noxious fumes obscured the view.

True to his word, Bill did venture out to take pictures a few minutes later. He stood by the shed and watched as two men sprayed acid and one man followed behind them spraying water.

When they were finished, the smooth surface had eroded away to reveal the quartz crystals embedded in the plaster. The resulting color variation gives the color more depth, and the crystals make the finish much more durable. And to my relief, the tile now looks beautiful between the coping and the wall. Whew!

After they left, we finally started to pour in the 15,000 gallons of water!

That's a Coke Bottle Taped to the Nozzle to Make it Float

When Allyson woke up, she had to help fill the pool.

The hose has been running for 12 hours, now, and the water is about three feet from top. We have to leave the water on even after we go to bed; otherwise, there will be a permanent ring at the demarcation between wet plaster and dry.

With any luck, the "pool school" guy will come out tomorrow and turn on the chlorinator, ozonator, and mineral dispenser, and then we can swim! (Don't tell the kids, but Bill and I actually waded around in the bottom after Ethan left for school and before Allyson woke up.)

What About Lola?
Are you wondering how Lola's been doing with all these strangers in our backyard? Surprisingly well. She barks her head off when they first arrive, but that's actually good since it lets us know they're here (and then I can run upstairs and get dressed). Then we typically lock her in her run, which cuts down on her barking for some reason.

The other day, though, she managed to escape from her enclosure. The man who was putting the mastic in between the coping and the deck phoned me from his car and asked me to put the dog back up. "Did you let her out?" I asked, mystified.

"No, I thought you did."

"Come on, Lola!" I said, and she trotted obediently at my heels through the dewy grass. "Oh, you naughty dog!" I exclaimed when I saw where she had pulled the metal ties loose from the bottom of the gate. "How did you squeeze your big body through that tiny hole?"

She just wagged her tail and gave me a funny grin.

"Well get back in there!" I tried to slam the gate, but it was too flimsy. I pulled the latch down with a firm click. "And this time stay there."

Returning to the banana muffins I was trying to bake, I informed Allyson she was on dog duty. "You tell me right away if she gets back out."

I had scarcely dropped one spoonful of batter into the muffin tin when Allyson announced excitedly, "Lola's back out! You naughty dog!!"

I groaned. There was nothing to do except lock her in the garage until the man was through. Since it had been drizzling all morning, the temperature was delightfully cool, so this would not be a death sentence as it would have been the day before. But it did mean muddy dog prints and wiry dog hairs all across my shiny wood floor.

I know, she's just doing her job. I feel much safer.

Construction Commences

As I mentioned in my last post, the pool excavation crew came out last Saturday, the day Allyson and I drove out to my nephew Greg's wedding. We had expected them on Thursday, but they were delayed due to rain. I was bitterly disappointed with the new dig date since it meant Bill would miss the wedding (and I'd have to do all six hours of driving on my own), and also because I really wanted to watch.

As it turned out, the dump trucks and the Caterpillar excavator rolled up around 7:30 A.M., so I got to see them break ground after all. Allyson and I were ecstatic, though I suppose our neighbors were not as enthusiastic about the constant drone of heavy engines and the beep-beep of the excavator when it backed up.

They started by uprooting the five tree stumps, which took about 15 to 20 minutes in all. They just dug around each stump a bit, then pressed the bucket against the stump until the whole root ball popped up out of the ground.

Allyson cried when I made her get in the car around 8:15, but she was back to her cheerful self before we got to the highway. After we left, the workers built the wooden forms, and then the excavator operator dug the hole from within the frame.

When we returned the next afternoon, I couldn't stop gawking at the giant hole in our backyard. "It seemed so much smaller when I was looking at your chalk outline!" I marveled.

"Yes," Bill agreed. "Isn't it cool?"

On Monday, the plumbers came. That evening, we all crawled down into the hole, and Lola jumped down and joined us.

Allyson had to show Lola how to get back out.

The next day, the rebar crew came to build the steel skeleton. Under the beating sun, they pounded the steel rods around a big metal tube conforming it to the contours of the wooden forms.

Man in Blue Shirt is Standing on the "Bending Tube"

Allyson watched from the shade of the umbrella, lounging on the cooler Bill had filled with water bottles and Dr. Pepper cans.

Bill gazed wistfully at Allyson. "Man, I wish I didn't have to go to work today," he said. "I want to stay and watch."

"You are so cute!" I said, planting a kiss on his cheek. After he left, Allyson and I watched them for hours, mainly from our air conditioned kitchen. At last we could see exactly what the pool would look like:

See how much of it is above ground due to the slope of our yard? All of that will be a lovely rock wall, visible from our kitchen window.

We had to wait a few more days for the electrician and the city inspector, and then the big day arrived: Yesterday, it was finally time to blow in the gunite, a dry concrete mix that is injected with water just as it is blasted out of a big hose. We'd heard this was the most fascinating part, so Bill worked from home while he watched. It was very loud and very dusty; clouds of concrete dust billowed through the yard.

For four hours, the men took turns wielding the giant hose overhead, their teeth rattling in their jaws and sweat saturating their long-sleeved shirts.

At 7:00 last night, Bill did his first twice-daily watering. He'll have to do this for about a week while the concrete cures, and then the pool will be covered with plaster. He'd scarcely completed the watering when a thunderstorm rolled in, dumping about two inches of water in the bottom of the pool. Today, he used a broom to splash that water onto the walls.

Allyson, Lola, and I climbed down the steps to watch. I was quickly driven away by the heat radiating up from the concrete, but it didn't seem to bother Allyson at all.

And Lola was fascinated by the brackish water. I hope she's smart enough not to drink it.

Speaking of Lola...
I have yet another Lola story for you. Around 8:00 last night, while it was still pouring rain, I noticed some familiar, incessant barking that sounded like it was coming from the front yard. "Is that Lola?" I asked of no one in particular. Not surprisingly, no one answered.

It's probably someone else's dog, I reasoned. Or maybe it just sounds like it's out front because of the rain. 

"Is that Lola, Bill?" I hollered, but again there was no answer. I put down my dish towel with a heavy sigh and stepped onto the front porch. The rain was falling in sheets, and thunder was crashing. Just as I started to holler Lola's name, I noticed a strange man in the grass.

"Is that your..." he asked, his voice trailing off.

"Is our dog out front?" I asked.

"A black lab?" he asked. I nodded, and he pointed at the driveway. "Over there."

I groaned and stepped out into the downpour. Sure enough, Lola was standing at the top of the driveway, barking her head off at the well-meaning stranger. I grabbed her soggy collar and dragged her, still barking and pretending to lunge at the intruder, to the gate. Headed  back to his car, he was now far enough away that she could put on a show of bravery.

"Thank you so much! I really appreciate your stopping to check on her!" I called over my shoulder. "I'm sorry you got wet."

"I didn't want her to get lost," he answered.

"Well, thank you ag-" I broke off, slipping on the mud in front of the gate. I caught myself on the gate handle, which was loosely tied closed with a stretchy rubber cord. I yanked the gate open about eight inches and tried to force my wet dog through the opening. "Get back in there, Lola!" I spat out through gritted teeth, but she wouldn't budge, and I couldn't get any traction in my flip flops. I jerked in terror as a flash of lightning blinded me and the immediate crack of thunder vibrated in my chest.

Just then, Bill appeared on the other side of the gate. He untangled the rubber cord and yanked Lola through the gate. "Get in here, ya dumb dog!"

"Thank you!" I said, turning back toward the front door as another bolt of lightning lit up the sky. Bill locked Lola in her run and then brought me a towel--a hand towel, for Pete's sake!

As I stood there on the rug, cold rivulets of water coursing out of my drenched hair and down my back, I was surprised at how relieved I was that Lola hadn't run away. I think I must be falling in love at last.

Maybe It's the Power Line

Have you wondered how The Family Garden is doing? Well, it's hard to say. Nearly everything is growing like crazy, and we're getting a bit of a harvest here and there. But most of it is just... weird. Like the cantaloupes we've been so eagerly anticipating. They're huge! But they're orange instead of green. They smell like cantaloupes, but they almost look like pumpkins.

Here's one that fell off the vine while we were away on vacation:

See the deep ridges and the orange tint?

It grew so fat that it split at the bottom, so we were a bit afraid to eat it. Bill and I each took only a dainty bite, but Allyson gobbled her usual portion and said, "More please!" She's still quite healthy, so I guess we should cut up the other one that's hogging fridge space.

The cantaloupe vine is still trying to take over the garden, or maybe the whole backyard. If you look closely at the center of the next picture, you'll see a little green cantaloupe nestled inside the tomatoes' cage:

Speaking of tomatoes, guess what? We finally have some! The tomato vines had grown so bushy on our vacation that they were dragging the ground, so Bill went over to cut them down. But then he saw a good number of fairly normal looking tomatoes like this one:

We might even have enough to make some tomato sauce, if I can figure out when to pick them. Even though they're still small and green, I found beak holes in one of them. Stupid birds! We probably need a scarecrow. You'd think Lola would chase them away, but she's probably too busy barking at the birds on the neighbor's roof to notice the birds plundering the garden.

The potatoes were a big disappointment--make that potato:

The big white bucket was overflowing with lovely green leaves, but when Bill dug it up, there was only this one shriveled potato in all that musty, wormy dirt. I knew we should have followed the complicated instructions I found on the Internet, but Bill assured me all that work wasn't really necessary.

The butternut squash seem to be dying out, though I did harvest enough (five, I think) to make a delicious pureed casserole for Mom's birthday on Sunday. Most of them were small and oddly shaped, but there was one nice fat one. It was so gratifying to say, "Oh, I'm glad you liked the squash. Did I mention it was from our own garden?"

I had thought the squash vine was climbing our photinia hedge, but turns out it's actually the cucumbers. We have one perfect cucumber...

Can You See it in the Middle?

...and then this weird thing that we'll definitely be afraid to eat:

I just don't know what to make of our produce, but Bill has a rather scary theory. There's a giant electric transformer box--or whatever you call it--in the corner of our garden. He says maybe the voltage in there is zapping our veggies and causing mutations. He may be onto something: do you see the red splotches in the picture above? That's where utility workers marked a power line in preparation for digging the pool. Come to think of it, we really have seen several odd vegetables growing in that one spot.

I have a theory of my own. Maybe the pumpkins crossed with the cantaloupe, and the squash crossed with the cucumbers. Is that even possible? Maybe it is if you throw in a strong electric current. 

I was none too pleased when one of the men tromped all through the garden. I don't see why they had to be in there anyway when the pool is at the other end of the yard.

Bill finished his preparations for the excavation yesterday. I could have cried.

Ethan and Tin helped out again, but they weren't nearly so enthusiastic as the last time. When I informed Ethan that Bill needed his help with carrying the limbs to the truck, he whined piteously. "But Mom, it's ho-ot!"

"Exactly. That's why we need to get a pool. And if you don't help, we won't be ready for them to dig the hole."

"But I'm not really the working type."

I burst into laughter. "I'm not the working type either, Ethan." I waved my mop at him. "But when there's work to be done, we just have to do it."

He stalked back into the near 100 degree sun (38 Celsius), grumbling all the way. I did catch him and Tin smiling when it was time to fell one of my last three big trees, but by the time I grabbed my camera, he wore a studied scowl.

I scowled, too, when I saw the end result of their labors:

Look Closely and You Might Spot FIVE Trunks

While I was busy moaning and complaining, Bill was digging ditches, rerouting the sprinkler lines:

In the Background Was My Second-Favorite Tree (After the Departed Cypress)

It better be worth it all. I'll keep you posted.