A butterfly on one of the blooming onions

July 27, 2019 - Saturday evening
75 degrees/partly cloudy/calm winds
Pentoga Road

I'm writing again tonight in hopes of getting an early start in the morning. I found out earlier today that after being exposed to the bright sun, the black rubber pond liner can be pretty harsh on my delicate feet. Despite plenty of underlayment beneath the rubber liner, I don't dare walk on it any way other than barefoot. Better safe than sorry.

Before I begin talking about the filtration system of the pond, I want to show off our onions. All are three year old plants that remain in the ground through the winter months year after year. Though we eat few onions, I keep the patch mostly for their blooms.

Saturday morning began with making the first pond filter. The first item on the agenda was to secure the sand bags with zip ties to ensure they won't open underwater.

I quickly developed a routine of pulling the fifty pound bags to the edge of the pond in the wagon, slipping off my shoes, then carrying them to the bottom one at a time. 

The flex pipe and rubber liner within the filter (the space between the sandbags and terrace wall) were covered with landscape material.

Once the landscape cloth and sandbags were in place, it was time to begin filling the filter with pea gravel.

Initially, there was no easy way to get gravel to the bottom of the pond. First, it had to be shoveled from the trailer into five gallon buckets.

It was a real slog to pull them over to the pond, lift each out of the wagon, take off my shoes, then walk down one level, pick up a bucket and carry it down two more levels, dump it into the filter, climb back up to retrieve the second bucket, carry it down, dump the gravel, etc. etc.

You get the idea.

It may come as a surprise, but I'm no spring chicken. After carrying fourteen fifty pound sandbags into the depths of the pond, one bag at a time, the buckets filled with gravel were about to do me in.

It was then I put on my old professor's hat and trolled my mind for a deep thought. There HAD to be an easier way. 

Hmm. Hmm.

I got it! How about if I attached a large funnel to the large cardboard tube, the one that the liner was wound around in transit? It would be like a gravel elevator. 

Might one say it was a gravelator? TM <- trademark



George Foreman with his fancy grill has nothing on me. With the gravelator, I was able to pour gravel without having to do any climbing.

The filter filled much faster and it wasn't long before I was in the bottom leveling the gravel.



The next chore was to wrap the bare flex pipe, that which goes from one filter to the next, so the perforations wouldn't draw water without it first going through a gravel filter.

For that, I simply wrapped garbage bags on the bare lengths and secured those with zip ties.

It was well into the afternoon before the lower filter was finished. 

I began carrying and placing sandbags on the next level later in the afternoon, but quickly found the black rubber was too hot and burned the bottoms of my feet. After carrying almost 750 pounds of sandbags and at least that much more of gravel, I quit for the day.

Sargie will be home shortly. Poor girl, she works on Sunday from noon until closing. I sure miss her during these long days when she's working.

I'll be up bright and early Sunday morning to continue on the top filter before the sun gets too high and the liner too hot. After all the digging of the past two months, carrying rocks, and moving dirt, I found I actually enjoyed making the bottom filter today and am looking forward to continuing tomorrow.

After all, a man's work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...