“Are you going to do something about that pond of yours?” said the angry voice on the phone.
“What about that pond?” was the best I could answer.
“It’s in my yard making a mess of things!”
I looked out the back window, and the pond was right where it’s been all winter, tucked under its blanket of ice and that strange snow that stays on top of little ponds all winter whether it snows or not. “Sorry, but I’m looking at it right now and it’s here in my yard.”
The voice harrumphed at me, but I stuck to my story, and then hung up.
Obviously this calls for action, so I’m replacing our phone with a model that’s in a softer and less anger-rousing color.