When I was little, this is what our swimming pool looked like:

It was just an old horse tank that my dad picked up somewhere. It was nasty and had a bunch of welds on it where dad had patched rusty holes. It would get filled up once a year and we were stuck with the same nasty water, unless there was a reunion or something, and then mom would change it. She did, though, add about a gallon of Clorox once a week. Everytime I swam, my knees and feet would get all scraped up from rubbing on the bottom.

Our pool toys consisted of an old innertube

quarters, and empty bottles of dishwashing soap that we used as squirt guns.