It began with a drop. A tiny droplet of reagent falling into a vial, swirling like a storm in a glass. I stood there with my testing kit, feeling confident. Smug, even. But the pool water had other plans for me.
Every color change in that test tube felt like a judgment. Every number screamed at me. Too high. Too low. Wrong again. I whispered apologies to the surface of the water, watching my reflection ripple back with disappointment.
Chapter One: The Guilt
I believed shocking the pool would fix everything. Like magic. I dumped in bags of shock like penance, expecting forgiveness. But the water stayed stubborn. Cloudy. Angry. And the stains laughed at me from the corners.
I blamed the filter, but the truth was in the basket full of leaves I ignored. My guilt clung to the walls like algae, dark and slick. Even as I vacuumed, I felt the weight of all my shortcuts pressing down on me. The water knew. It always knew.
Chapter Two: The Confession
One evening I sat by the edge, dipping my fingers in. The cool water didn’t soothe me. It mocked me. My pH was a mess. My chlorine was exhausted. And my filter… clogged like the thoughts crowding my head.
I confessed everything to the pool. Out loud. Neighbors probably thought I was unhinged. But the pool listened. Silent. Still. Patient. My words floated away, but the shame stayed behind.
Chapter Three: Redemption
I woke the next morning determined. I gathered my tools like a knight preparing for battle. Brush, test kit, hose. I brushed until my arms shook, knocking guilt from every tile and step. The water swirled with dirt and regret.
I emptied the skimmer basket with care, like handling fragile glass. I disassembled the filter, scrubbing away months of neglect. The filter grids looked at me with gratitude as I rinsed them clean.
This time, when I shocked the water, I did it right. Measured. Methodical. I balanced the pH, adjusted the alkalinity. For once, I was paying attention. Really paying attention.
Chapter Four: Clarity
The next day the pool sparkled. Not perfect, but honest. The stains faded. The water felt lighter, like it had forgiven me. I stood there, test kit in hand, afraid to dip it in again.
When I finally did, the colors matched. The numbers lined up. And I felt something shift inside me. Pride? Maybe. Relief? Definitely.
I smiled at my reflection, now calm, now confident. The pool tested me, and I passed.
Lessons Learned:
- Do not dump shock without testing first.
- Brush every surface regularly to keep guilt (and algae) at bay.
- Empty the skimmer basket before it overflows.
- Clean the filter thoroughly, not just when you feel like it.
- Balance pH and alkalinity before worrying about chlorine.
- Be patient. The pool rewards care, not shortcuts.
I realized that caring for a pool is not just about keeping it clean. It’s a relationship. A reflection of the time and love you pour into it. Every test strip, every brush stroke, every apology whispered into its depths is part of the story.
The pool taught me more about myself than I ever expected. That guilt can be scrubbed away. That mistakes can be corrected. And that patience, like a perfectly balanced pool, is worth everything.
So I keep testing. And it keeps testing me. But now, it feels like we’re in it together.
