Swimming. The Battle.

Earl and I have a four-foot above ground pool in the backyard. It was one of the items that attracted to us to the house back in December 2003, because after all, anyone who is anyone swims in December in Upstate New York.

What fools are we.

As I sit in the kitchen today and look out at the pool, I note that it is a lovely emerald green. It doesn’t quite match the grass in hue, but it’s working on it. I wonder if it’ll change color with the leaves.

Actually, it’s not like we’re harboring a swamp back there. The pool water is clear, but the sides and the bottom of the pool are green. It began its journey to green during our trip to Indianapolis a week or two ago, after being filled with beautifully clear, chlorinated goodness for three quarters of the summer. I hate to admit this, but I’m thinking of stopping at Wal*Mart (Always White Trash, Always) to see if they have any pool supplies left amongst the Halloween candy, winter coats and Christmas lights they are currently featuring. I’ll probably end up at the pool supply store, which features wood stoves as well. Maybe I can fill the pool with wood fire pellets.

A couple of days ago I entertained the idea of dumping all the household Chlorox into the pool and seeing what kind of stew that would make, but then I heard someone say on the radio “Do you do your laundry in the pool?” Now that’s silly. I don’t even wear any clothes in the pool, why would I wash them there?

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