Logs and Buttons

In my bedroom, I have two fish tanks. One is a ten gallon, and currently houses a minnow, who has lived with two crawfish and three ghost shrimp. The other tank is a fifty-five gallon, which currently has one pearl gourami, who used to have two friends of similar persuasion. Over the long winter, while I was in school, I coasted with the tanks. I fed the fish and I cleaned the tanks (replaced water, kept up the basic maintenance on the filters, that sort of thing) but I didn’t do any heavy renovations. Now that summer break is here, though, I’ve started my spring cleaning. I’m most excited about the lager tank, which I am going to be adding at least ten fish to this summer, once I get The Log into the tank.

Last summer I went hiking with my friend, and we found this epic log of awesome, and brought it back to my house. I had every intention of getting it into my tank straight away, but that hasn’t happened. The log is no longer waterlogged, so I will have to weight it down. To that end, I bought a tube of aquarium safe silicone today, and will be buying some rocks on Friday. Then I will use my dad’s saw to cut the log down to a manageable size, and put it into the tank. I can’t wait. Then I’ll add some more plants, and be on my merry way to a beautiful, healthy home for the fishy friends I will buy shortly.

My parents repainted the den this summer, and then bought new carpet and a new sofa. They have completely redone the room. My mom is going to make curtains, and has fabric samples up in the room right now to make her choices. We have a leather love seat, and my parents moved it from one side of the room to the other. My sister’s cat decided this meant it was a gift to him, and he shredded part of the newly exposed back. My dad is furious. He has decreed that the cat is no longer allowed in the den, and he super-glued those soft-paw deals on the cat’s nails, so he can’t scratch anymore. The cat doesn’t understand why he isn’t allowed in the room, because he has of course forgotten his misdeed. I feel a little bad for him.

My favorite jeans popped the button. It wasn’t the kind that gets sewn on, so the peg thing made the hole in the jeans too big, so it wouldn’t stay in. Since that had the potential to be very embarrassing in public, I haven’t been wearing them. Today, though, I bought new buttons and sewed one on. It works perfectly, and it’s like getting a new pair of pants. I’m most pleased with the results. It is a dashing button, too, if I do say so myself.