Any Nasty Hatchet

Either more tolerance has evolved or it hasn’t been quite as hot this last week or so — maybe I’ve just been being brave.

There was one day, just the way monsoons do, where it seemed like a giant bucket of water was tipped over in the sky — out of the blue, with no warning. One minute no clouds, the next minute the bucket and rip roaring wind. Since then, it seems a little cooler.

At any rate, it’s been easier to be outside so I’ve been getting SO MUCH done — so sick of all the messes. You know, those, “I could use this later to … — I could make this or that out of this or that… — These spray paint lids could …???”

Junk. Accumulating junk that I so didn’t ever want to send off to the landfill. Now they are going to the landfill. I want not to put that kind of burden on any other one.

I thought at one point —  a couple of years or so ago, maybe more — that I was going to do a mosaic tile pattern on all the inside floors. Well, someone donated tons of tiles to the project and two days were devoted to driving to another town to collect them, more days to offload them all and corral them somewhere until the project could be gotten to, and several more days or weeks of trying to figure out how to do it only to get utterly discouraged of the huge project it became with a house filled up with stuff, (that kind of thing should only ever be undertaken in an empty house), as well as back-breaking labor and, in the end, it was just too, too, too busy for my taste.

Live and learn.

It was one of those long-time dreams that had to be explored.

Age has made me wiser and some dreams are also going to the dump.

Some of those tiles were used to create paths thinking they might keep the soil moister and help the soil livestock. NOTHING, not a single solitary thing keeps anything in this desert moist unless it is a steady stream of water. Shade helps the most — hence the goal to plant, plant, plant as many trees as this little piece of land can hold.

I got a little nervous lately because my #GoodNeighbor and his lady were out scoping the trees on his side of the fence — I feared he might lop the ones down that are there that I love so much. Turns out he might just have been trying to decide where to put his new little Chicago Hardy fig tree.


Isn’t it cute

He called me to the fence yesterday to tell me all about it. How good it is doing and that when it’s all grown up and hanging over my side, he wants me to help myself to figs. I love that kind of confidence and figs. Yum. Free figs!!

The back story of our acquaintance involves me and a saw sneaking out to cut branches off of his overhanging trees so that I could install the fence for my doggies. I was well within my rights and did it exactly that way because I knew his then wife and I knew that if I asked for permission, she would come out and direct the whole event, not to my liking. As it was, she called the police. Some less-than-civil words were spoken and some body posturing was done — but in the end, the police said I was fully within my rights. Later on the two of them went their separate ways, he put in renters and later came back to start a remodel to move in there himself. Needless to say, we buried, (ignored), any nasty hatchet and have been more than civil neighbors ever since.

Every day I try to go out and get some things done. It’s amazing how things get done when you do that.

I tried to paint that rug once and most of it went through the back. I may try again with some of the old junkie paint instead of letting it all dry up and sending it to the landfill too. Maybe if a whole bunch of it was puddled????

I like having the rug there.

Most of the worst of the junk seems to be in Buster’s yard. I’ve really let that side go to pieces — but not for long…

I think I’ve finally come up with the perfect solution for Buster’s new habitat. I knew in my gut that it would eventually swirl around in the ether and finally land on me.

I was at Tractor Supply getting mosquito dunks and spied some stock tanks out in their fenced in yard. I was imagining a big round galvanized one that many people use to make themselves a pool so went over to see how much they cost. They didn’t have any. Suddenly the light bulb moment hit me like a 300 gallon Rubbermaid tiered and plumbed giant tub.

rubbermaid turtle tank

I’m so excited I can hardly stand myself. A friend is coming with her truck to help me get one home tomorrow.

My truck has a cover on it and it doesn’t really run and isn’t insured except to sit.

This is what occurs when you can’t easily go where you think you want to and some places just aren’t open. You have to use your noodles. It’s the best solution I can now imagine. I think it can still be below ground but be dug out where the outlet is so that the water can be drained to another hole that will be like a grey water pond with plants and rocks and sand and such — we’ll both have to wait for the details — they are conjuring in my noodles but I’m sure as sure can be for as sure as I can be.

Of course I came home and started researching to see if they are safe for little turtle girls (and boys.) Buster’s a girl as well as I can tell.

Check this out:


And I think the hole I started is going to be a great start to fitting it in and the tub can be leveraged over the fence right there with 2x4s. It’s fairly, pretty light.


Waiting has its just rewards. It’s all finally falling into place.

So all that stuff under the cover is debris that can be made into a hugelkultur bed above the ground as a berm or another hole dug into the ground for it to be used for the runoff. More research and practice seems to be oncoming.

Draining has always been the hurdle. There isn’t electricity to use a pump and the water gets full of algae so quickly that there needs to be a way to refresh it and use the runoff well.

I think we’ve found the answer.

I’m so excited I can’t stand myself. I’ll say it twice.

Check back in a little while if you want to see where this goes. Even if it fails for Buster’s pond, (which I don’t expect it will), it will make a very lovely pool for me and the kitties. I don’t think they’ll bother getting in.

Just as a little side, I’ve been bringing home more plastic tubs to sort out all the sewing stuff. I’m almost as excited about finally getting that all done as I am about Buster’s pond.


I guess I’d better hurry back to Walmart for more beans and bins because I WILL NOT WEAR A MASK, (starting Monday). I WILL NOT be complicit in this, (somewhat non-violent though violent just the same), coup d’état being perpetrated on us. I hope you won’t as well.

I guess it’s beans and rice for me. You have to stick your picket pin in somewhere. I refuse to be a robot. There are worse things than death.







1 thought on “Any Nasty Hatchet

  1. Pingback: The Secret Life | First Do No Harm Front Yard Farmacy

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