'Chatsworth House'

Ah, the internet.  It has given people such an opportunity to express themselves, and not just through posting porny selfies or demonstrating their mad skillz creating cute costumes for their cats then posting pictures of pets dressed as former Communist party leaders and captioning them ‘Chairman Meow’. 
Occasionally though one finds a fine example of that dry English wit that typifies the nation in the most unexpected of places, and just has to be celebrated.
I have recently taken possession of a fish pond.  No problem, I know what to do with fish ponds, you fill them in and plant barbeques on them.  However, a quick consultation with the Internets reveals that this is ‘likely to cause distress’ to the resident fish.
Putting fish up for adoption is also trickier than it first appears.  The traditional way of disposing of fish, by setting up a bent funfair stall that requires the average punter to spend roughly the cost of a Koi before winning a fish in a bag, is now frowned upon.  One solution is to give the fish to pet stores for ‘rehoming’, although when you read on you discover that they can end up being rehomed in the digestive tracts of other pet shop residents, which I sure as hell hope means other pets rather than Crazy Phil behind the counter.
Accordingly, I have to take care of them before I work out what to do with them. 
Step one, food.  No problem, the local hardware store sells what appears to be vastly overpriced confetti that the fish seem to enjoy.
Step two, oxygenating the pond.  Did you know that fish need oxygen?  Strange, given their choice of environment.  But as it would appear the fish are not going to make a great evolutionary leap any time soon, the oxygen has to be introduced to the water.  This is done by splashing the surface of water surface.  Thankfully, the English weather has managed to do this on a grand scale recently by the simple means of rainfall by the budketload.  The Internets also recommends a wee fountain.  (That is, a small fountain rather than one styled along the lines of Brussels’s most famous spurty splashing feature).
Ever the optimist, I reckon a solar powered one is the best interim fix and hop on B&Q’s web site to see if they sell them.  They do, so check the comments section.
And there it is.  A five star review in every sense that explains the product is, essentially, a little fountain that spurts a three inch jet when the sun is out.  However, it’s the opening sentence that steals the show, encapsulating in five words the aprirational essence of the back garden water feature, the mentality of the gardener and the self-effacing humour that typifies the English condition. 
The review begins…’It’s not exactly Chatsworth House’.
Genius.