I got down in a stock tank today, and thought I might not get back out of it. Now, if you’re not from Texas, you might not know what a stock tank is. This one was one of those round galvanized-metal water tanks cattle drink out of out in the pasture. I mentioned Texas as we call our bodies of water dug in the ground tanks, while people in other parts of the country call them ponds. No matter. I had reclaimed one that had been punctured several times with a shotgun blast. To make it hold water, I put a bolt through the hole with a washer on either side and tightened it up good. Several holes, several bolts with washers and I had a goldfish tank for my back yard. I think I have confessed before that I reuse things. Oh, yeah, it made a fine fish bowl for some years, but it started leaking.
We finally got around to landscaping that area, and ordered some “magic” liquid that is supposed to seal anything. (They didn’t say how many coats would be needed.) Well, my husband is a sucker for TV ads, so we got this little box in the mail a few days ago. Of course, he wasn’t going to get down in that tank and fix it…that would be me.
Being one to delegate, I drafted my grandson to scrape and sand the metal down. Now, you must know my grandson likes to hit the high spots and call it done. Not me, I can visualize all those little rust particles jostling around under that rubber seal-coating, and eating away until the bottom fell out of the tank. So I pulled off my shoes and crawled in (with the help of a step stool). I scrubbed and washed it clean, the water draining through a hole in the bottom.
Trouble is, it was harder to climb back out. The steps were too high for my weak leg. I tried several positions to no avail. Finally, I asked my grandson and a carpenter that was there to help pull me out. It worked.
I have been thinking about old things that are about worn out. How many more seasons do they have? My answer: as many seal-coats, bolts and washers, and helping hands as it takes. That tank will support more goldfish for a few more seasons, and I will be active as long as “I think I can do it.” And try.
I know I must get back down in that tank and paint on that “magic ” liquid. I am thinking about how I can make those steps shorter so I can get back out without two men to help me do it. After all, I am woman, hear me roar.