Half full or half empty is more than just a rhetorical question when it comes to a swimming pool. Anything other than full is “broken” or “empty”. Algy, the green goblin, has beaten me into submission. He gobbles up the most caustic of chemicals with relish. The more dangerous, and the higher the dose, the more he likes them. I had dumped such a serious cocktail of chemicals in the pool to appease Algy that, according to a pool technician, they had reached the point where they were cancelling each other out. I have no idea if there is any truth in this as I am scientifically illiterate and I believe people who can string together long sequences of believable sounding, but to me unknown, words. It’s probably how most religions started. The final advice was “I don’t know – I’d empty the pool if I was you”. For three days now I have been pumping water out of our miniature pool. It has taken three days because I only have a miniature pump and a hose with the diameter of a drinking straw. Algy is a clever bastard. As the water recedes there is no trace of Algy. His fingerprints are nowhere to be seen. The walls and steps are clean, yet the remaining water is dark green. A pathetic dribble of crystal clear water runs from the mouth of the small bore hose. Where is Algy? A bucket filled from the green water remaining in the pool will instantly become clear when removed from it’s verdant depths. This is close magic comparable to that performed by the best practitioners of that arcane art. The other thing that is clear, aside from the water in the bucket. is the close link that Algy has with the appearance of the sun. Algy may have been knwn to the Druids as he, like them, patiently awaits the rare appearances of sun in the Northern Hemisphere before performing his magic. Stonehenge might well have been the framework for a round water world with slides, high boards and even a bar in the middle which fell into disrepair and disuse owing to Algy’s manifestation which was carefully timed to coincide with the appearance of the sun. Maybe the green mistletoe, that is associated with Druidism, is the winter alter ego of summer Algy although embracing under the Algy in my pool would be akin to suicide. The whole point of a pool is to await the sunny days and get down to being indolent. Indolence and empty pools are not good bedfellows. They are similar to a Rolls Royce broken down by the roadside. The object of desire has metamorphosed into a target of derision. In my experience all will be blue and crystal clear as the sun leaves on it’s way for another appointment with Algy elsewhere.