Pond One Punky None

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It is June and we are still on the pond project. The far end of the pond flooded over and eroded away the front of the pond. My brother and I; through some creative maneuvering involving our grandfather’s log chains and the tractor safely on the road; managed to inch the old metal pipe into place. It is to be a spill way pipe. Before we could get the pipe set we had a nasty little storm go through, flood the pond and of course the pipe plugged the hole perfectly and was floated eight feet down hill. Another truck load of dirt was lost as the flood water spilled over the height of the pond directly above the main pipe we have been trying to keep covered.

Well, try, try again; as they say. I spent seven hours on the tractor tonight. I have been digging dirt and hauling it one little bucket load at a time to the sight. I refuse to pay by the ton for dirt. The big backhoe is down, needing nearly two grand worth of pump parts. When we need it the most it is in pieces. The pond will be done by the time the engine rolls over on “Big Moe.”

In addition to the one pipe I put two more pipes in that will be buried under the front of the pond and exit where the main pipe exits. The catch is having to build a concrete box at the angle. We will  then raise the height of the pond three feet.

snapper 50 We dubbed this big turtle, “Big Bertha.”

After examining the sight I have taken a liking to it. I do believe Mom would love to come and watch the frogs in a screened gazebo. The dam has to be fenced off to keep the horses out. This looks like a perfect spot to put berry plants, maybe a some elderberry bushes, tall herbs, and such. Hmmmm. I see more tractor time in my future.

Ewww. Maybe some solar panels on the roof to run lights and a pump for a fountain in the pond. The fountain would aerate the pond and make fish possible. Some big fat catfish. Hmm. Mom might not like them eating her frogs. She is already on the fence about turtle soup. We might end up with catfish stew.

Okay, let’s just get to the chiropractor in the morning so I can dig up some more dirt before the next storm hits and wipes out my pipe again.

Yet, remaining to be filled is the mold for the concrete box. Can we say, “Twenty bags of concrete all on a Wednesday night? Scritching and a scratching. Mixing and a sloshing. All to pour on a Wednesday night.” Chiropractor for three- Thursday morning. I’ll make the appointments ahead of time.

After all the long hours of digging I came home to this at the front door…

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and little Noah full off high-speed energy. I think he licked the suds off my brother’s Red Bull. Sometimes it is just nice to have a little pup that always fits in your lap. I love my Dane girls, but a hundred-twenty pounds of lap dog is just not happening. Sorry, Maya.

noah 5050Done to DogresiedI

Author: cynthia queen

Living on a small farm just three miles short of the West Virginia border I am kept extremely busy with writing, working part time, remodeling our rental mobile homes and running the farm. I lived most of my life on the New York border in the Tyoga County backwoods. Our family has known nothing but hardship and scraping by. I bought this farm with the intent of bringing my family to a better place. I'm hoping my writing will begin to supplement the income and make bringing the family here a reality.