However, fate and my tendency to multitask intervened, and I forgot I left the water on in the pond and let fresh chlorinated water run into the pond all day, well past the ability of the chemicals I'd poured in to deal with the chlorine. My son somehow missed the dead fish and the overflowing water when he went out to feed them that dreaded afternoon, but my ever-astute husband immediately connected the lifeless, floating fish and the water flowing in an endless stream with, well, duh, my forgetfullness. Never one to mince words, in he came, yelling, "Kim, you killed all the fish!" Sensitivity is something he excels at, can you tell?
I thought for a moment, "What the hell is he talking about? We ate fish last night; of course they were dead." Ah, and then that light clicked on, and I remembered the hose. From nine o'clock in the morning. And there it was, five in the afternoon. Sigh. I walked onto the deck and looked down at the pond and the end of all my fish troubles. And I very pragmatically thought, "Well, frak. Takes care of a whole bunch of issues." Plus, I'm a girl. A girl. So, I didn't have to fish dead fish out of the pond and deal with them. My sensitive, thoughtful husband and the boy who is obviously as absent-minded as I am (come on, he fed dead fish!) took care of that. And poof, problem solved. Besides, if I had cried at the loss of critters, related to my last night's supper, well, that would have made me a sentimental dumbass.
And I am not a sentimental dumbass. Much. Plus, now I have frogs out the frakking wazoo. I kid you not. We've always had frogs, but not like this. Dozens of frogs, more frogs than we had fish. It is big time frog legs out there.
In honor the dead fishies who I do not miss (much), their last photo:
And to showcase just how magnificently nature fills in a vacuum, the froggies: