We have a pond. I never wanted a pond. In fact, I never even considered wanting or not wanting a pond. Nevertheless, we have a pond.
Michael's mom isn't a fan. I can't say I blame her. Michael's mom, Carla, and I have different takes on why we don’t really like the pond. She considers it a hazard to the grandkids. True, no doubt, but so is the huge river in the back of our house that connects to the Chesapeake Bay. Actually, at this point, our entire living situation is a hazard. But that’s a topic for another day.
But, there are days when the pond is really pretty, and then I like the pond except for the creepy girl sitting on the “dock.” I don’t know what it is about her, but I can’t stand her and I also can’t get rid of her. A friend from high school, Julie, visited once and she understood, but it’s not something I can easily explain. Julie and her husband just bought a house and I planned to send the creepy girl as a housewarming present. But, I couldn’t bring myself to remove her from her resting place. (You're welcome, Julie.)
Speaking of resting places, behind the pond is the final resting place of “Tiffy,” Bob and Mary’s (the former owners) dog. The funny thing about Tiffy is that the “T” on her gravestone has been missing for quite some time. Now we have “iffy” buried in our backyard. I can’t help but think that’s funny.