We couldn't convince Carlos to join us in the water. (We were moving the pump away from the muck.) He had "forgotten" his bathing suit. He was too shy to go in without it. He had to get ready for an exam. The excuses ran on, but of course we all knew that he was a hot blooded Latino who prefers bath tubs to lakes. It ended up that he worked harder than any of us running up and down the hill to run our errands for us. And of course he made the dinner ... chicken cacciatore ... yummy.
So there we were ... three women, a wharf spider that sent Tammy into paroxysms of terror, a leech that made Little Tammy nervous, Shea who wanted to play rescue dog, the pump, the electrical cord and the heat line ... and, of course, the cement blocks.Little Tammy and I kept floating away for some reason, and neither of us was good at diving and doing stuff underwater, so Tammy ended up doing the lion's share of the work.
We struggled to attach the cement blocks to the heat line, and managed. Then we attached the pump to the last block, and placed it in one of the holes. The plan was to work together to get it out to the correct spot. Tammy was carrying the cinder block and we were to transport the rest of the paraphanalia attached to it.
That was when Little Tammy and I suddenly felt our feet go out from under us (it gets deep quickly and we are both short) and we floated away dropping our bits. Tammy discovered suddenly that she was the only person holding the cinder block plus its accoutrements and the weight took her straight to the bottom. After a bit more juggling, things seemed to be in place.
We also put the ladder I rescued in the spring in place.
Sarah arrived with Remi in the middle of all this.
Sarah arrived with Remi in the middle of all this.
Carlos took the Cinderblock Ballet photos.
He was errand boy, cook and photographer.
He was errand boy, cook and photographer.
The water was great, by the way.
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