I sometimes think Farmer H was the inspiration for the Scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz. Sure, he wasn't born back then. But maybe there was some wrinkle in time. Or a time-travel machine like that little Doritos boy made during a Super Bowl commercial. Not like the one Napoleon Dynamite's Uncle Rico ordered. It didn't work!
This evening, Farmer H decided to get Poolio's filter ready, since he has begun the filling process. Oh, don't think he completely drained Poolio last fall. Nope. It's still going to be butt-water soup from the last 10 years. But there WILL be some fresh well water to top it off.
Farmer H had The Pony helping him. That means they lifted three bags of sand purchased from The Family Center into the back of the Gator, and drove it around the back of the garage to Poolio, and took the top off the filter, and poured in the sand.
Problem was...they couldn't find the guts of the filter.
"I always put it in here! Right inside, so when we take the top of the filter off, there it is, ready to go the next year."
I was observing over the back porch rail. Under the guise of telling them their supper was ready.
"Did you put it somewhere else?"
"We looked inside the bench with the pool noodles. But it wasn't there, Mom. We found a wasp nest, though!"
The Pony is observant. That wasp nest was laying at the bottom of the filter. It was at least 8 inches in diamter. I don't know why it was moved from the bench with the lid over to the filter area.
"Did you put it in the workshop?"
"No. Dad had me look in there, too." Like that's going to find it. Like father, like son.
"I looked, too! It's nowhere in the workshop."
"In the garage?"
"I haven't looked there yet. If I can't find it, I'm going to have to get on the internet and see if I can find parts."
"You and your hoard. It's no wonder you can never find anything."
Let the record show that after supper, Farmer H went back to the workshop. I know, because I heard him stumping down the stairs on his ankle-bones with no feet (that's how it sounds, anyway), and I heard his phone ringing on the other side of my office wall, in his workshop. Then I heard a cry of surprise. It wasn't exactly 'EUREKA!' But something like that. Mumbled.
"Pony! I found the filter parts."
"That's good." Once The Pony gets back on his couch, nothing much excites him.
Maybe Poolio will be ready for swimming before The Pony has to pack up and drive out of my life to Oklahoma.