October 4, 2007

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 4, 2007

Headwater of the river Styx....

I've spent the last 48 hours slowly coaxing my swimming pool from a light jade color to the still-somewhat-cloudy blue it was this afternoon just as the sun began to set. So far, this has entailed 4 2.5 gallon jugs of liquid chlorine, 3 cups of acid and a 4 pound tub of stabilizer. I'm fairly certain that by tomorrow, after another 2 jugs of chlorine, the pool will achieve the glittering blue that people expect to see when they come to measure the living room for the 20th flipping time. I'm also fairly certain that by then, I will be too well aware of the toxic soup simmering in my backyard to ever risk swimming in it again.
When we first bought this house, I was thrilled to have a pool. My husband had tried mightily to put me off buying a house with a swimming pool. He pissed and moaned endlessly about what a drag it was to keep up; the chlorine would bleach our clothes when it splattered, we'd have to test the water constantly, brushing the sides of the pool and vacuuming the bottom and changing the filter would surely kill the thrill of having our own concrete swimming hole. He would always tell me that his father felt that one of the best reasons to have kids was so you'd have someone to clean the pool. I was sure he was being a bit dramatic about the whole thing. This would be wonderful!
Well, that lasted about six months. A month or so after he left for Costa Rica and the pool warmed up enough to swim in, I discovered a few unpleasant truths: the chlorine splatters your clothes, brushing and vacuuming are a real pain in the ass and changing the filter sucked so much it had to be added to Tom's "honey-do" list when he came up to Miami. I also found that getting a pro to do it would run me $60 to $80 a month and that I had to choose between getting the yard done twice a month or having the pool done twice a month. I chose the yard. The pool very quickly became the ball and chain Tom had always claimed it was. Much as I love being able to take a dip whenever I please (and in the buff, if I please!), I don't think I'll want another pool again. Been there, done that.
So, tomorrow morning I'll take another water sample to Pinch-a-Penny Pools and buy more toxic liquids to dump in the goo-lagoon and when Mrs. Oooh-the-pool-is-lovely-is-it-hard-to-keep-up comes over with her measuring tape, I will smile and lie and say, "Heavens, no! It's so easy to maintain! It's the best part of this house!".
Hopefully the sale will go through before the chemicals can eat a hole through the bottom of the pool and poison the neighborhood groundwater.