Excy's converting the therapy pool from running exclusively on propane to a combination of fuel and electricity, and it involves all manner of complicated pipes, tubing, motors, and gadgets he's spent months tracking down in stores and on the internet and then building and assembling.
He took me into the 'engine room/pump house' or whatever the room with all the equipment is in is called, and tried explaining it to me, but my coherent husband suddenly began speaking in tongues or Swahili, so all I could do was nod meaningfully and say "wow" until he stopped speaking. I was impressed, of course, which was the point and all he hoped for, and the end result will be a hot pool again, which is all I hope for. So, as Gary Cooper's 'sheriff' says to his new 'bride' Grace Kelly in High Noon, "that's the whole thing." More info than that on the subject and my eyes glaze. Fortunately Excy knows this.
At one point he had to solder some pipes and set up a few cinder bricks stacked on the terrace to the height he needed and they're still there a week later. Excy being Excy, this could mean he's not finished, or it could mean he's wandered off and left them on permanent display until I gently bitch them off to some unprominent spot. Hosting Thanksgiving tomorrow means this will happen today. (Mostly my nudging means things happen eventually, the general rule of thumb being three weeks after my reminders).
Any hoo -- the first night the bricks were on the terrace, I threw the dog food out for the 'coons and critters as usual when it grew dark and didn't think anything about it until later when I was walking down the hall to the bedroom. The corridor is glass so I always glance out to see if we have any 'customers' on the terrace and if they need more food. Three coons were clustered around the blocks, sort of scratching their heads and ohhing and ahhing, and touching the bricks. It reminded me of that scene in the movie 2001 where the apes are admiring the monolith. (Anyone want to explain that movie to me? Oh forget it - I don't really care). At one point in the evening, several more 'coons were examining the bricks and a few others appeared genuinely concerned and in consultation off to the side. By the end of the night I would not have been surprised to see choice offerings laid at the foot of the brick or to see the 'coons in makeshift shriner's hats worshiping in some pagan rite.
Everything's calmed down as the week's gone by, and even the skunks (notoriously timid and shy) shuffle by unconcernedly now.