When it’s a pond. Previously on this channel I brought to you the saga of pond creation Chez Le Pard – Dun Lawyerin’ – and I left things on an upbeat note. The hole was dug, the rogue rainwater removed and the materials were ready for the final push. Well, there seems to be a pressure for more reality checks on blogs and less of the ‘look at me, isn’t it all dandy?’ piccies so, hmm, time for an update.
We (The Lawyer, the Pond Guru and me/I) had a plan. A. Finish the shaping and line the bottom where the clay was boggy from the decanted rain with old carpet. B. Add a ton of sand and shape to fit. C. Finish with a proper 30 year liner. D. Fill with water to hold the liner in place. E. Build a clay barrier inside the shallow end to enable a bog garden to be created. And F. Create a lip with old roof slates and bits of York stone before planting. Here are the photos that took us through that process.
The slate. Such a great idea to do the edging but we needed to obtain some more materials before we finished. Stuff to hold them in a final place, soil to help stabilize some of the surrounding paths. We left the pond overnight with large stones holding the slates in place.
And that’s where we confronted reality.
The next morning two slates had fallen in. It looked like an acrobatic fox had found the one place where they hadn’t been held down firmly. Surely we couldn’t be so unlucky…
I went away for a few days walking and met up with the Pond Guru to finish things off. The level had dropped by a foot; the lining was punctured, low down in the deepest section. Our beautiful sand lining had collapsed with the water that it had absorbed. We had to decant the remaining water – some thirty to thirty-five dustbins full – and dig out the clay barrier. Now we have to order in more sand and another, thicker lining. We swore, a
I couldn’t photo the pond – it was too painful – as it leaked but this is it after emptying…
The Lawyer, whose grand scheme this is, is abroad. When I relayed the grim news I received a whatsapp.
As Kipling almost said: ‘If you can dig a pond while all about you are filling theirs and empty it twice and not give a toss, then you’re a f*****g saint.