ursangnome (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ursangnome) wrote2003-05-27 09:17 pm
ursangnome) wrote2003-05-27 09:17 pm
Fishing for complements...
So, with my Lady gone to a convention this past weekend, I figured I'd take on a couple of projects to keep me from getting bored. One, the purchase and installation of a CD-RW drive went well enough. Even had the obligatory extra trip out to get a cable I didn't have - a positive thing, as it gave me an excuse to window-shop for expensive toys. The drive went in as advertised, and seems to function nicely. So, I can backup my computers and make CD mixes.
The other project, however, turned into the basis for a new Norse Edda or something....
I have a fishtank. Very nice, 30+ gallon thing I inhereted from my roommate, who inhereted it from a friend of his. I knew cleaning it would be a big bother, but it had to be done. An aquarium needs to be thoroughly cleaned about once a year, as under the gravel you get a buildup of dead bacteria - nasty black stuff that's toxic to the fish. Unless I want my tank to resemble the 1980's Boston Harbor, the tank needs to be cleaned.
So I prepare - take a shoppig trip to buy a big bucket to house the fish during the procedure. New air pump, new air tubing, new air stone - for critters that live underwater, lots of the fiddly-bits are related air - new filter elements. All set.
Step one: Remove the "furniture" and the fish. Simple enough. The "furniture" is all plastic, and doesn't put up a fight. The fish, too, all go quietly into the bucket with a simple swish of the net. Except for one...
The one is the only fish we refer to by name. It's name is Schwa, a pink gourami that started out nice and small. But it's been living in that tank for two years now. Two years of growing. The fish is now about the size of Milwaukee, and isn't going to fit into my little net.
No problem, I think, I'm a tool using monkey with a brain designed for improvising tools. I'll find something else to move him in. I try to jury rig a net from a plastic bag, but it is too big and clumsy. Schwa is a nice, healthy fish, and has no problem dodging. I try an odd vegetable steamer pot I've got. Better, but he still dodges. When I trap it near the top of the tank in a corner, the fish has the audacity to leave the water, jumping over my clumsy tools and back into the tank. The fish and I dance for twenty minutes. The fish is unperturbed. I am perturbed.
No problem, I think, I'm a tool using monkey with a brain designed to recognize patterns, and thus the ability to see when I'm not winning. I also have a tool the fish can't beat - an automobile. Said tool will carry me to Petsmart, where I can buy a proper fish net slightly larger than Milwaukee. I undertake this trip, come back with a new, net, and with a simple swish and flip, Schwa is in the bucket with is other fish friends.
Step two: Remove water and plumbing. Removing the water goes well enough. Though, I wonder what the neighbors may have thought of the sight of me outside, with my head around the house floor level, sucking on a garden hose that is snaked out the window. Yeah, I'm sure the first thought to come into their minds would be, "He's siphoning out a fish tank."
Next, I remove various plumbing bits, and I find that some of it is old and brittle, and needs replacement. Grumble. Another trip to Petsmart. I put a lid on the fish bucket, to keep the cats from getting ideas, and head out. I have a little issue trying to find a piece of transparent pipe in a shadowy corner of the store, but I eventually manage, make my purchase, and head home.
I walk in, and the first thing I notice is a large pink fish lying on the floor! The lid is off the bucket, and two cats are sitting about a yard away, looking at me with these innocent eyes as if they, too, are concerned for their fellow pet's well-being. I examine more closely, and see absolutely no movement in Schwa. He may have a scratch, but no hunks taken out of him by kitty teeth. With a shrug and little hope I deposit the fish back into the bucket, where the little fiend swims! Lucky darned fish! I count, and all other aquatic denizens of the house are house are accounted for.
The rest of the job is drudgery. Shovel out gravel. Wash gravel (by hand, in a bucket in the tub). Shovel out more gravel, repeat. Take out remainder of plumbing. Remove sludge from bottom of tank. (Note: water that things were living in should never, ever, be black. Even if it's supposed to be normal, and all the books and fish-store folks tell you it looks worse than it is, it's just wrong.) Clean tank, replace plumbing and gravel. Run garden hose thought house to refill tank, etc....
Through this whole process, I learned something that leads me to doubt that the cats were trying for a little fishy-Schwa lunch. While working near the tank, I occasionally heard a single thunk. But, like a single shot in the forest, it's difficult to localize. I didn't figure what was going on until I happened to be looking at the fish bucket and saw the lid jump with the thunk. I guess Schwa didn't like captivity much. A couple days later, back in the tank, he cruises around like nothing happened. Lucky darned fish.
The other project, however, turned into the basis for a new Norse Edda or something....
I have a fishtank. Very nice, 30+ gallon thing I inhereted from my roommate, who inhereted it from a friend of his. I knew cleaning it would be a big bother, but it had to be done. An aquarium needs to be thoroughly cleaned about once a year, as under the gravel you get a buildup of dead bacteria - nasty black stuff that's toxic to the fish. Unless I want my tank to resemble the 1980's Boston Harbor, the tank needs to be cleaned.
So I prepare - take a shoppig trip to buy a big bucket to house the fish during the procedure. New air pump, new air tubing, new air stone - for critters that live underwater, lots of the fiddly-bits are related air - new filter elements. All set.
Step one: Remove the "furniture" and the fish. Simple enough. The "furniture" is all plastic, and doesn't put up a fight. The fish, too, all go quietly into the bucket with a simple swish of the net. Except for one...
The one is the only fish we refer to by name. It's name is Schwa, a pink gourami that started out nice and small. But it's been living in that tank for two years now. Two years of growing. The fish is now about the size of Milwaukee, and isn't going to fit into my little net.
No problem, I think, I'm a tool using monkey with a brain designed for improvising tools. I'll find something else to move him in. I try to jury rig a net from a plastic bag, but it is too big and clumsy. Schwa is a nice, healthy fish, and has no problem dodging. I try an odd vegetable steamer pot I've got. Better, but he still dodges. When I trap it near the top of the tank in a corner, the fish has the audacity to leave the water, jumping over my clumsy tools and back into the tank. The fish and I dance for twenty minutes. The fish is unperturbed. I am perturbed.
No problem, I think, I'm a tool using monkey with a brain designed to recognize patterns, and thus the ability to see when I'm not winning. I also have a tool the fish can't beat - an automobile. Said tool will carry me to Petsmart, where I can buy a proper fish net slightly larger than Milwaukee. I undertake this trip, come back with a new, net, and with a simple swish and flip, Schwa is in the bucket with is other fish friends.
Step two: Remove water and plumbing. Removing the water goes well enough. Though, I wonder what the neighbors may have thought of the sight of me outside, with my head around the house floor level, sucking on a garden hose that is snaked out the window. Yeah, I'm sure the first thought to come into their minds would be, "He's siphoning out a fish tank."
Next, I remove various plumbing bits, and I find that some of it is old and brittle, and needs replacement. Grumble. Another trip to Petsmart. I put a lid on the fish bucket, to keep the cats from getting ideas, and head out. I have a little issue trying to find a piece of transparent pipe in a shadowy corner of the store, but I eventually manage, make my purchase, and head home.
I walk in, and the first thing I notice is a large pink fish lying on the floor! The lid is off the bucket, and two cats are sitting about a yard away, looking at me with these innocent eyes as if they, too, are concerned for their fellow pet's well-being. I examine more closely, and see absolutely no movement in Schwa. He may have a scratch, but no hunks taken out of him by kitty teeth. With a shrug and little hope I deposit the fish back into the bucket, where the little fiend swims! Lucky darned fish! I count, and all other aquatic denizens of the house are house are accounted for.
The rest of the job is drudgery. Shovel out gravel. Wash gravel (by hand, in a bucket in the tub). Shovel out more gravel, repeat. Take out remainder of plumbing. Remove sludge from bottom of tank. (Note: water that things were living in should never, ever, be black. Even if it's supposed to be normal, and all the books and fish-store folks tell you it looks worse than it is, it's just wrong.) Clean tank, replace plumbing and gravel. Run garden hose thought house to refill tank, etc....
Through this whole process, I learned something that leads me to doubt that the cats were trying for a little fishy-Schwa lunch. While working near the tank, I occasionally heard a single thunk. But, like a single shot in the forest, it's difficult to localize. I didn't figure what was going on until I happened to be looking at the fish bucket and saw the lid jump with the thunk. I guess Schwa didn't like captivity much. A couple days later, back in the tank, he cruises around like nothing happened. Lucky darned fish.