“The pool is turning green.” Elizabeth informed me.What does it matter? September is here. I know from experience that nobody will be swimming anymore. Still, I would like to tuck away a crystal clear pool for the winter.
So, I attack the pool with the long-handled brush and the new vacuum head I have recently purchased to replace the old falling-apart one. The vacuum keeps sticking to the bottom of the pool. Don’t ask me why.
Despite the sticking problem, I finally have the whole pool vacuumed. The water in the shallow end looks healthy, but the deep end appears murky green—the colour that happens when the chief caregiver is gallivanting in Montreal and Saskatchewan, too far away to do regular pool maintenance.
“The kind of murky green your soul gets when you neglect me,” I hear in my spirit.
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