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Pool Maintenance 101

 

Pam Ward

Humor Columnist

 

  Last week Brandie generously purchased us a pool, one of those with the inflatable ring around the top that holds the water in. (They look like a blue flying saucer filled with water.) The pool is 3˝ feet deep and 18 feet around, plenty big for us all to lay on floats working on our tans for hours while no housework or laundry gets done.

  That first day was awesome! My son-in-law Jeramy put together the pool, then worked the grill, while the water hose slowly worked its magic. Grandson Andrew and great-nephew Drake, both 12, splashed around discussing how cold it was and comparing who was the paler of the two. By the way, you know you are truly old when you have a “great” niece or nephew. And I have both. And, since said great-niece is 18 now, the odds are pretty good that at some point in the future I will become not only a GREAT aunt, but actually a GREAT-GREAT aunt. Have mercy. Anyway, eventually the pool filled, the food grilled and a fine time was had by all.

  According to Google, “stuff” must be done to pools. To be clear, they must be shocked. So, I purchased “Shock-Plus” or something. Google had said I needed other “stuff,” but I just went with the shock. I figured anything called “Shock-Plus” should work miracles, and I might even sprinkle it around my house, kinda like carpet fresh. Then I read the package and learned that it could kill us, so I figured I probably shouldn’t do that.

  Meanwhile, Brandie, (who has a college degree and knows things) purchased the remaining “stuff” and brought it by for our pool guy. (Turns out that’s me.) Being pool guy isn’t easy. One must test the pH, adding different “stuff,” chlorine tabs, then “shock”again after heavy rain, or lengthy episodes of floating, writhing, greasy bodies. You get the picture. On a side note, Google says urine in a pool is reportedly not a problem due to it being sterile. Hm. Who knew?

  So, yesterday pool guy (me) hauled all the “stuff” out, including my glasses, so I could read that tiny test strip. It was sunny and warm so, as directed by Brandie, I entered the pool and began walking in circles to encourage any junk to go to the middle, so I could scoop it out with my handy-dandy net. After about my fourth go-round I was car sick, so I tried the net. Which immediately broke. Then, without warning, the sky opened up and rain began to pour, accompanied by lightening and thunder. What the heck. My crop-circle maneuvers over, I decided to pH test anyway, promptly stepping on my glasses. Alrighty. I’ll just add the chlorine and go in. I was, by now, drenched from head to toe.

  I couldn’t open the filter to put in the chlorine. Of course I couldn’t. I raised my hands to Heaven asking, “Why God?” But His only answer was rain in my eyes and a clap of thunder. Gathering up the “stuff,” I headed inside, stepping on my glasses a second time.

  If you are in need of pool maintenance, Pam has started her own company. Your pool doesn’t really get clean, but it’s worth the show watching her try.

 

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