I’ve been having an absurdly fun time prepping for the aquarium—the one that I’ve got some kind of 12-step program going in what I thought was my secret lair in the basement, until my shenanigans became too dire, and I had to fess up to Tracy just an hour ago. Let me step back, first, though.
You know how I found a large aquarium in the backyard when we bought the house, and, after determining that it’s leak-free, I’ve been researching how to set it up. Even back when I was living in that apartment, I was getting excited for this aquarium; heck, I’ve always wanted a nice aquarium.
I know, that’s what people say who don’t have one, kind of like with horses. And boats. And RVs. The only people who don’t want them are the people who have them, and the best days of their lives are the days they get rid of said horses or boats or RVs, or, I assume, aquariums.
I did have a small one somewhere, probably when Finn was little and I felt like I couldn’t spare a single dime for something so frivolous. I had another small one at my first real desk job once he went to school.
I thought it was in this picture, but it’s only our office cat, who was cute enough that I’m not sure why I needed an aquarium. The resolution on that picture is low, so I looked through all my old pictures of cats to see if I could find a better version, and look what I found.
One of several photos of baby Finn that are so adorable you want to SQUEE on the spot. How far they seem from the very adult Finn who’s visiting me right now, and whom I got a good photo of while getting him to try on the sweater I’m knitting for him.
How can those two beings be the same being, I want to know.
I need to get back to the aquarium.
I’ve always been fascinated by swarming, schooling, flocking animals, ever since I went fox hunting as a kid and felt my pony moving as part of the herd, no longer in control, really. I was in awe of the phenomenon when I scuba dove with fish, later when I watched circling American White Pelicans above me. Really, all the time. I so want a tank full of tiny, schooling fish so I can examine the school, get lost in the group, at least in theory hand over my free will to the mass.
So, I’m planning the hell out of this aquarium. As I mentioned previously, I can build up helpful bacteria in the tank over the winter as I try to keep the pond’s goldfish alive in it, and that will shorten the amount of time (cycling, it’s called) it’ll take me to get the aquarium full of living stuff (larger than bacteria) once it’s in place after the renovation has happened.
I’m having fun buying and practicing with the mini chemistry test kits you need to master with an aquarium. How like pregnancy kits they seem! But with far less dire consequences. To the tank, I’ve been adding rocks from the pond and testing the water and having a good old time here on the Group W Bench, as they say.
I even ordered two pieces of driftwood for the tank, seeing as how that can build bacteria on it, just like the sides of the tank, and when it’s time to move the tank upstairs, I’ll put the goldfish in the pond, the bacteria-laden driftwood into a bucket, Tracy’ll move the empty tank, and then I’ll set it up with new water and the old driftwood, and again I am that much closer to having cycled the tank. (Yes, I felt like an idiot buying driftwood, but I live in Wisconsin now, amazingly, so I kind of have to.)
I then borrowed my neighbor’s canning pot, because turns out you need to boil driftwood to get all the tannins out. Okay, I can do this; this is not too far-fetched. After boiling, I got the pieces situated in the tank just so. They look GREAT. Kind of small, but if I put one on its side and rest it against the other, it looks like one big piece.
Then, I got a brilliant idea. You know how I want to have lots of plants in the aquarium according to the Waldstad Method (or whatever it is), so everything is in biological equilibrium. Well, some of the plants I’ll need for that grow on driftwood! With the right shenanigans, I can get these plants all rooted in the driftwood over the winter.
The problem with this plan is that Tracy keeps telling me I might not have stable electricity in the basement, seeing as how there is only one outlet down there right now, and we’ll need it for the fridge we’re moving down there, as well as for the nefarious needs of the contractors. So, I’m keeping a lot of my fish tank stuff on the down low. If Tracy found out how much I was planning on needing electricity, he would flip his lid.
I bought low-light plants that grow on driftwood. Just in case.
Problem B is that they were due to be delivered the night we had a freeze warning and would be at a concert. I kept checking the mail a little too frantically for someone who casually wonders, “What’s in the mail?” Finally, they arrived, and I got them inside and down to the basement without raising suspicion.
I had researched how to get the plants on the driftwood, which required drying it out after the boiling, because, get this, you superglue the tiny base of each plant to the wood, so it’ll stay in place just long enough for the plant’s roots to start burrowing into the wood.
I get the plants and the superglue and some plastic gloves all down into the basement and situate my evil scientist experiment items on the washing machine, close to the aquarium, I tell myself. But it’s really in the basement so Tracy won’t see my plan that makes my requirement of electricity even stronger, which he will very much object to. I know he won’t want me to ask the contractors to leave the aquarium plugged in. I won’t! I’ll just go into the basement each night after they leave and plug it all in. No big deal!
So, I’m using a Q-tip with the super glue, dipping it into the glue, then putting a spot at the base of the plant and pressing that into the wood, wearing my gloves, just like I watched on YouTube. Except, I need to leave the Q-tip in the glue container each time I have to put it down so I can press each plant into the wood; I don’t have enough glue to use a new Q-tip over and over. Whatever, turns out I use more glue than is recommended because of this, and I get some on the wood, but you can hardly see that, there on the washing machine with the flashlight held in my mouth.
Until, I get the driftwood back in the tank. First problem: it floats, because I let it dry out to get the glue to stick, and that made it lighter than it had been. My careful arrangement of the two pieces looking like one big one with exact plant placement was all shot to hell!
Finally, after soaking both of my arms to my armpits in the tank, I got the two pieces together okay, and I sat back to admire my work.
The freaking glue had dried WHITE against the now-darkening wood, and it looks like a child has been squirting Elmer’s White glue all over the damned place. Which, basically is what happened there on the washing machine.
The jig is up; I need to take the whole damned thing out again, spread it in the sunshine, and try to scrape some of the glue off the surface, or I’ll always be reminded of my idiocy. Turns out that Tracy isn’t all that concerned about having the electricity available to the tank’s lights, after all (I swear I thought he had been), and he helps me scrape off the offending white blobs, to a small degree, at least.
I got it all back in the tank, situated together, pretty much. Now the glue spots look like patches of algae, maybe? And, maybe, once I get actual dirt in the bottom of the tank (after the renovation) and other growing plants, they will camouflage the glue. Maybe.
Notice that this house is so lopsided that even in the cellar the floor is slanted. I hadn’t noticed until I filled the tank up almost all the way and wondered why water was sloshing out one end and not the other. D’oh.
At least Tracy’s indoor project is complete, and we have not passed out from gaseous emissions or dropped the 200-lb slab on our shins or made huge mistakes with glue. It’s all up to the contractors, now.
