Yes.. the air stone is bubbling away. The pond is a 19'x9 semi-circle. Most of that, even when full to the top, is less than 18" deep. What I think I've got now is an area roughly 3'x5' no more than 14 inches at the deepest. As to fish... there are 4 year and half old comets and maybe a dozen or so of their offspring. Also two or three bullfrogs. I'm going to play a waiting game today and see if the water goes any lower. If it doesn't, then I'm pretty sure I know where the crack is and I can do an emergency patch when the snow melts. If the water level does go lower I'm in big trouble. No way could I find, even the biggest fish under all the ice and leaves so a "rescue" is out of the question. I guess I'm going to have to just keep adding water and hope I can keep it at the present level. Of course, water pressure will only serve to open any crack even further so the longer winter holds on, the more problems I'm going to have. Think Spring everybody!

So the wife went out w/ friends for dinner and to plan a baby shower. What do I do? Yardwork of course, I turned the pile, actually I moved it into the garden where I ripped out the pumpkin that was doing nothing but rotting. I have been using cardboard to keep it off the fence so it doesn't stain the white vinyl. It's now free standing. It was nice and hot inside when I moved it, also kinda greyish. I hope I'm not turning it too often, but it had shrunk tremendously due to lots of rain. It's now a good 4ft high. I also mowed up 2 more bags of OPBL. Too bad I always get lots of pine needles, cones, large seeds, and branches in the OPBL I select. I need to find a way to inspect them more easily. Maybe I should just grab alot and put what I don't want out on my curb.

I'm with you plasticgarden. Some of us just happened to win the genetic lottery there. *sigh* I use Clinique All About Eyes twice a day, and though it doesn't make it all go away, I don't look like someone's been kicking me in the head while I've been sleeping anymore. It works really well for puffy eyes, but I'm only puffy when I've got my allergies in full swing. I have a friend who swears by the Avon Anew, so I might try that one eventually. I would love to hear from anyone who's tried Hylexin (that one for "serious dark circles") to see if it's worked for them. It's a little to pricey for me... unless it actually works. There's something to be said for samples... NO SPAM on that please!!! I have yet to find a concealer I'm happy with. I've never used the Dermablend ones, that's definately on my list of things to try. As for concealer tips, yellow-based concealers are good for cancelling out the blueish-purple areas in the skin, but it can sometimes make you look a little too yellow on it's own. It generally looks more natural if you put a little flesh toned concealer over it. Depending on your skin tone, that still might not do the trick. Yellow-based concealers always make me look jaundiced. I take a teeeeny tiny bit of a true red lipstick or lipliner and mix it into a bit of my eye cream and lightly brush it over my really dark areas. Then I use a flesh-toned concealer over the top. The pinkish tone brightens the dull bruise-y looking skin and it doesn't look so flat and lifeless when I put the concealer over it.

Yes, Dido--I am familiar with that poem and have taught it many times in the past--but strangely enough, had forgotten it. Thank you for reminding me. Impressive imagery. It chokes me up--the old lie! Since we are on anti-war poems, here are a couple more that I used to teach along with Owen. The Jarrell poem--WWII-- leaves us gasping because it is pure horrifying image with no commentary. The shortest and maybe most realistic war poem I know--and a fitting postscript to Owen: "The old Lie: dulce et decorum est/ Pro patria more." The second one--WWI poem--, with its repetitions and wandering, circling thoughts that take us no where but leave us caught in an endlessly pointless repeating maze, also leaves us gasping with its final pointed question--what are "patterns" for? The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner By Randall Jarrell From my mother's sleep I fell into the State, And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze. Six miles from earth, loosed from its dream of life, I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters. When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose. Patterns By Amy Lowell I walk down the garden paths, And all the daffodils Are blowing, and the bright blue squills. I walk down the patterned garden-paths In my stiff, brocaded gown. With my powdered hair and jewelled fan, I too am a rare Pattern. As I wander down The garden paths. My dress is richly figured, And the train Makes a pink and silver stain On the gravel, and the thrift Of the borders. Just a plate of current fashion, Tripping by in high-heeled, ribboned shoes. Not a softness anywhere about me, Only whalebone and brocade. And I sink on a seat in the shade Of a lime tree. For my passion Wars against the stiff brocade. The daffodils and squills Flutter in the breeze As they please. And I weep; For the lime-tree is in blossom And one small flower has dropped upon my bosom. And the plashing of waterdrops In the marble fountain Comes down the garden-paths. The dripping never stops. Underneath my stiffened gown Is the softness of a woman bathing in a marble basin, A basin in the midst of hedges grown So thick, she cannot see her lover hiding, But she guesses he is near, And the sliding of the water Seems the stroking of a dear Hand upon her. What is Summer in a fine brocaded gown! I should like to see it lying in a heap upon the ground. All the pink and silver crumpled up on the ground. I would be the pink and silver as I ran along the paths, And he would stumble after, Bewildered by my laughter. I should see the sun flashing from his sword-hilt and the buckles on his shoes. I would choose To lead him in a maze along the patterned paths, A bright and laughing maze for my heavy-booted lover, Till he caught me in the shade, And the buttons of his waistcoat bruised my body as he clasped me, Aching, melting, unafraid. ...