Tuesday, April 28, 2015

My latest folly...

I had to so some serious napping today ... because of my foolishness.

The original basin for my fountain was a lovely ceramic glazed, wide clay basin.  Back when I was living in Alexandria, a visitor tried to be "helpful" by moving my fountain to another location that would get better light for the moss growing on it (it used to be covered).  Before I could stop the move, the visitor managed to drop and break basin.  The very expensive basin.  SIGH.

I found a concrete top to a bird bath that was on clearance because its base had been broken.  That is what I have been using for the fountain ever since.  However, it was immensely heavy, making moving it each time I cleaned the front porch nearly impossible.  And, more importantly, the basin was too shallow, so I kept burning out pumps.

VoilĂ !  I found a rather economical solution (yes, having that extra money from switching to generic Celebrex went to my head a bit) on eBay two weeks ago, and it finally arrived in the mail.  It is an antique enamelware basin ... which just happened to be GREEN!  

A couple of months ago, when I thought about setting up the fountain in the Spring, I went searching for another basin.  Over the years, I have done this periodically.  It was random wandering about eBay that led me to the idea of enamelware basins (some were mentioned for washing babies) and I kept an eye out for one large enough.  Many sell for lots and lots and lots of money, but this one had no bids on it.  I think, sometimes, on eBay you can stumble across a listing that just never got noticed.  I bid on it with 8 seconds to spare and got my basin on the cheap.  With free shipping, though, I had to wait a long time for it to arrive.

That sprouting moss on top is the bit of moss that Firewood Man saved for me when he spotted it.  I am hoping that with the now constant flow of water, it might grow in the fountain.  Plus, I am hoping moss will regrow on the rest of the fountain.  In Alexandria, it used to be almost completely covered.

I sure do love me some GREEN moss.

What about that concrete bird bath basin?  Well, that's where the exhausting myself came in.  Now, I tried to wait until Firewood Man came this week to mow, but the new/old enamelware basin has been boring into my very being ever since it arrived last Thursday.  The day after Tim left for his vacation.

So, today, I fetched the pump from its winter storage spot (the basement utility closet), used a flat rock to reshape the fountain a bit to better fit in its new basin, filled the fountain, turned it on, admire it immensely, and lugged the old concrete basin to the back yard.  I mean, I couldn't just leave it on the front porch could I???

Prior to the back porch repair, in the bed of my rock river I had a right-sized bird bath basin that had lots of avian visitors.  Unfortunately, neither Firewood Man nor I thought to move it out of the way before demolishing the old porch lattice walls.  Wood went flying.  The ceramic bird bath shattered.  SIGH.

Now, having lugged the concrete basin to serve as a replacement, the Interior Designer's Daughter in me acknowledges that it is altogether too large for this space.  And the other bird bath was far more attractive.  However, I thought I might be able to ignore the garishness of this whilst the birds are enjoying it until I find a new home for it.  Surely someone around here is fervently longing for a slightly used, algae-stained concrete bird bath basin without a base, right???

Mrs. Robin was not happy with me spending all that time on the front porch whilst working on the fountain and filling up the new basin.  At one point, she rather angrily glared at and chided me mercilessly whilst perching atop the head of one of my stone lions.  She wanted to get back to her nest and tending her babies.  I tried to explain that I have been avoiding the front porch just for that very reason, but she did not agree that getting the fountain going was a special circumstance.  The three trips to the outdoor faucet it took to fill up the basin were made a bit treacherous by her dive-bombing me.  Poor Birdie Momma.

Amos, too, was upset with me.  For a while, he was rather obediently sitting on the bench whilst I was working.  Then, I heard him bark.  Only it wasn't a near bark but a far away bark.  My Rat Bastard Fluff-Ball had the nerve to leave the front porch for the very first time so that he could protest someone walking on the street perpendicular to mine.  I nearly had a heart attack spotting him in my neighbor's yard.  But he came scrambling back as soon as I screamed COME!  That is is best word, thankfully.  Being all worried about him and about my ability to survive the upcoming move of the concrete basin, I banished Amos inside.

So, in short, I had Mrs. Robin upset with me, Amos upset with me, and myself upset with me (for being so foolish as to try and move the massive weight of the basin).  I didn't faint, thankfully, but I did upset my asthma something fierce and I was worried that this would be the time I had to go to the ER without being able to take the standard asthma attack treatment.  I grabbed a Dr Pepper for the caffeine and then spent a few hours working on calming my breathing down, waiting for the wheezing to stop.

Then I napped.
And napped some more
And still more.

I was foolish.  I need a lecture.  Maybe one whilst sitting on the front porch and enjoying my fountain once more.  [Hey, just how long is it going to take for those robin eggs to hatch???]  In my defense, I did awake, once again, in the early morning battling violent waves of nausea.  I needed something good to happen this day.  Getting the fountain set up in the GREEN basin was certainly good, in my opinion.

Amos is the ultimate winner of my folly.  On the morrow is his annual torture session at the vet.  Normally, I would spend the evening before cutting his nails, pulling the hair from inside his ears, detangling the curls on his ears, cutting all his curls, and giving him a bath.  I like to put his (my) best foot forward during his check-ups.  However, all I did was trim his nails, which once just cannot neglect.  Since Amos is not currently a stinky puppy dog, he's going to the vet as-is, longish, non-lavenedar-smelling curls and all.

He did ask if we could bring the weighted blanket with us tomorrow.  I sure am tempted to try and lug it along. I think, however, he's going to have to be satisfied with being smothered by it fore and aft of his appointment.  I doubt my exhaustion from today's folly will be anywhere near gone tomorrow.

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