Honestly, if patience is a virtue, then I must be a saint by now. I have been waiting and waiting and waiting (yes, that’s three “waitings” for extra emphasis) for our new swimming pool to finally be finished so I could take a much-needed dip. The heat here has been intense — the kind where you start eyeing up the fridge wondering if you could fit inside for a quick cool down.
But of course, nothing is ever straightforward, is it?
First, the suppliers sent us the wrong amount of grout. Then when we told them, they sent the wrong amount again. I mean, how hard is counting bags, really? And then once it was all finally in place, we had to wait for it to dry before filling it with water. Weeks ticked by. I swear I could hear the sound of melting flip-flops in the background.
At last, the day came. Our friendly local water man (a sweet elderly gentleman who also supplies us with firewood) rocked up on his tractor with a big tank of water. We were practically giddy, imagining how our new swimming pool with golden and grey tiles would look sparkling under the sun. And oh, it was beautiful… for the first few tanks.
Michael went off to work, I went back to my office, and a couple of hours later I popped out to admire it again… and saw a slightly green tinge. Hmm. Messaged Michael. He replied with some funny quip (as usual) so I figured, “Alright, maybe this is normal?”
An hour later, I checked again. Nope. Not normal. It was sludge green. Like, swamp creature emerging any minute green.
I sent Michael a photo. He came straight back. The water man, bless him, insisted it was the colour of the tiles and not the water. He even took a sip to prove it. (For the record, I’m not recommending “pool water tasting” as a regular maintenance strategy.)
Now, Michael’s not one to get cross with a lovely old chap like that, but inside, I could tell he was silently screaming. He decided to just get on with fixing it — only to discover our brand new pool pump was faulty. Cue frantic calls to the supplier, a dash into town, and a lot of muttering under his breath.
By the end of the day, he was frazzled. But a couple of days later, after working his pool magic, the water was crystal clear and absolutely stunning.
And today… today was our first swim. Pure bliss. The thermometer (a purple fish we picked up in Action) told us the water was a delicious 28 degrees — basically bathwater. I floated there, looking up at the sky, thinking, “Totally worth it.”
The tiles shimmer in the sunlight and honestly, it feels like we’ve got a pool straight out of Grand Designs. We keep catching ourselves standing there with cups of tea, just staring at it like proud new parents.
It’s like having a holiday resort right outside the door — minus the dodgy buffet.
