What a Little Anger Can Do...

Do you ever get so mad that you have to just HIT something?  Yes, I know you're not supposed to hit your kids but sometimes you have just HAD it.  My solution is sometimes to throw something across the floor but it is usually something flimsy within reach, like a paper napkin, and the gentle float is just not quite satisfying, KWIM? Or the stack of papers I just spent an hour sorting and are now in a mess across the tile.  But the better solution, for me, my house, and my sanity, is to go out and DIG.

And dig I did, last week.  You see, about 7 years ago, we put in an impromptu pond in our frontyard (long story, but it involved divorcing neighbors, an old pond mold they had in their yard, and six forlorn little goldfish we couldn't bear to see die... you'd laugh if you heard the whole story).  In our rush to build it fast, we purchased a 6 foot pond kit from Walmart with probably the cheapest, weakest pump available.  Plus since it was in our front yard, it could only be 18 inches deep, per city code, to prevent drownings.  Pond aficionados know that the larger the pond, the more self-maintaining it is.  Well, our little 12 sq. foot pond needed LOTS of maintenance, and two pumps, replacement fish, several attempts at aquatic plantlife, and, well, we just gave UP.

There it sat, our once beautiful pond that drew oohs and aahs (it really was beautiful for about one summer), with about six inches of putrid, algae filled water that despite Mosquito Dunks made you feel like you were in a World War III with those tiny guys from Night at the Museum.  And every day, I set my eyes forward as I walked it past it, dreading the task it would take to empty it and then refill it with soil.

On top of that, there was this psycho plant called Mexican Ruellia. Beautiful cup shaped lavender blooms atop long stems of beautiful boat shaped leaves.  But in the center of the blooms lay these evil bomb-shaped seeds, and a drop of water would send them shooting into the air, randomly landing everywhere and immediately rooting and forming a new  clump!  The 4 inch pot I had stupidly purchased at the garden shop was now a 6 foot by 5 foot spread, interspersed with honeysuckle vine (yeah, that's a whole 'nother story) and Hackberry saplings!  Between the dead pond and the evil bomb seeds, an entire 10 foot square area right by my front door looked like a long abandoned field.  I knew I had to do something, and I knew a pallet and a half of flagstone lay in that wasteland.

Flung that baby as far as I could! 

Okay, so now that you know the backstory, why did I start digging?  Last Monday, I had pretty much just had it.  Fed up with my kid, my dogs, my mess, my business, and already starting to dissolve into that puddle of snotty tears I told you about (I know, bad image in your head).  I grabbed the shovel and my sneakers and started ATTACKING the Ruellia.  As evil as the seeds are, they are not too smart, and they were very shallow rooted, and within a few hours, I had cleared half the stand!  Inspired, I kept at it, and had finally cleared a space where I could stand and start shoveling out the water and gunk out of the pond!  Several spiders and rocks, and green slimy gunk piles later, I decided to give the liner a tug.  Well, it took a lot more than just a tug, but DANG it felt good!  Planting my feet and pulling with all my might, I yanked that liner all the way out and dragged it to the driveway!  Slowly but surely, the rest of the water began to seep into the old carpet padding on the bottom and then into the soil.


I looked around and mentally calculated how deep my soil needed to be to a) fill the hole, and b) give me enough space for some stabilizing sand and the flagstones. (I had laid the stones out on a blank piece of lawn as I took the pond out and there was more than a patio sized area there!  The stones had been stacked 3 deep around the pond.).   Satisfied with the day's work, filthy, and starting to feel the effects of working for 6 hours in 100-degree heat, I called it a day.

You can see the pond impression on the right.
Where the shovel is was 3 foot high Ruellia. 

The next day, I tackled smoothing and tamping the soil, and with my son's help (he had to redeem himself for making me upset in the first place), purchased 200 lbs. of sand and bender board.  My husband helped me that evening to attach the bender board to stakes, and we began to spread the sand and lay the stones.  The $4 solar lights uplighting my live oak had already started to flicker by the time we finished, and I sat down on the garden benches relocated from elsewhere to survey my now peaceful corner, shaded from the street but still close to my doorway.

I envisioned myself coming out in the evening with a glass of Moscato, or sitting down to chat with a customer picking up an order, but I know my life is not near that perfect nor will it be anytime soon.  I'll likely storm out there after another argument, or hide out to keep from having to tackle the dog pee in the hallway, but at least I'll know I made that spot (mostly) myself and that feeling will do so much towards my healing.  If you know who I am, and you're in the neighborhood, drop by.  I promise the mosquitoes are almost gone and I think I can find some wine somewhere....

My little peace corner.