Jun 21, 2020: Ninety-Three

Father’s day.

An apt day, then to be at mum’s doing things which father has left as his legacy.

A day in which his spirit has haunted my every move, action or thought.

Last week I removed the pond, a dish which contained water the sort of green a witch would absolutely lose her shit for. I rolled it off to one side and vowed to return this week to complete the job or refilling, restoning and general re-doing the pond.

I have spent the entire week hoping for the kind of rain which makes doing outside garden work impossible. That rain did not come.

First job in returning the pond was to remove some sort of reed-y plant from the flowerbed. While it looked it keeping with the water feature, it just overshadowed it, and was slowly taking over a decent chunk of the garden. It prevented easy access to anything past the pond and was a nuisance of the highest order. To remove it – a spade and a fork. Where are said items? Locked in a metal cabinet behind the garage.

A metal cabinet which is rusting more and more shut with each passing day.

A rusting cabinet which has drunk so much WD40 and other penetrating oils that it will be the most spry thing on the planet. I had to kick it open this morning, putting all the power of actually having steel toe-capped boots into full effect applying what my old PE teacher used to refer to as “brute force and ignorance”.

Mum, meanwhile, was amusing herself imagining dad’s ghost inside the cupboard just holding it shut.

I got that sorted, got the pond back in place, cleaned the pump and got that back in, got the hose out to fill it up. Again the spirit of dad swoops in…

I tucked the hose securely in place in the pond. I went to turn it on…

Firstly, the hose connection to the tap was leaky as buggered – something mum had “noticed” before but not mentioned – because the screw that holds the hose was cracked. Luckily, if there’s one thing that is in abundance in the garage, it’s hose attachment screw thingies (as I believe they’re called).  Fixed that. But that was a distraction, because while I was mending that, dad’s ghost pulled the hose out of the pond so that when I turned it on it sprayed water everywhere.

He did it again later on when I went into the summerhouse to turn on the pond pump. I watched it happen. The hose just casually slid out of the pond, and threw itself across the decking soaking everything. And then the pump didn’t work, even though it had worked before I’d put a huge stack of heavy stones in position around it.

But that turned out to be because I’d not pushed the switch all the way, having been rushing out of the summerhouse to try and catch the hose…

And then the legs fell off of a metal bird that overlooks the pond.

Dad was busy today, the little scamp.