Anything That Floats

After the last post, I am pretty sure I will bite the bullet and upgrade this site to allow for more media storage since I’ve exhausted the original 3G. It’s $4 a month for 3Gs more, (which, as I said, I really resent but imagined it would be more like $20 so find a little relief from total resentment that I have to pay WP to give them content to sell ads on.) Since the original 3 lasted so long, I guess it will suffice for now.

I was inspired by the following video by DIYMarta on YT to try to make a floating biofilter for Buster’s pond and, since I don’t use FB anymore, this is the only venue I have to share the pictures with Marta.

I went all over the yards in search of elements that I could use to make something. I couldn’t find anything that floats so hoped someone around would have something. The local dollar store just happened to have pool noodles out front for end of summer consumption — I took six of them since I didn’t seem to have anything else on hand that was floatable.

After bringing home the noodles, I still couldn’t think of what I might do to make the part that carries the plants. There is no end of fabric around but nothing akin to burlap.

This is all being done in the mode of practicing to see what will work — so that is what you will see now.

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The first thing was to get the noodles round. Wire clothes hangers were perfect as they can be made to sort of spring so that there is tension. Duck tape will need to be reconsidered as whatever gets wet, fails. I’m sure there is some kind of waterproof tape??

I like the round shape and the smallness of these since Buster’s stock tank is deep but not huge in circumference. It’s a Rubbermaid, 500 gallon, black stock tank.

Two of the setups made it over to her pond, but no images at this point since it is all such a mess there at present. She got into that pond before I was really ready for her, so I just let her be. I was excited that she liked it.

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So, after the noodles were round, what to use to hold the plants or to plant them into. I took two naval orange bags and opened them up flat to think of a suspended mesh-type thing — but it proved to be a ridiculous thing to manage. Fishing line was tried to attach it and it just wouldn’t behave.

Back to the drawing board.

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All of a sudden I spied some old fan guards I’d saved from defunct fans and felt like a light bulb went off in my head — perfect — they seemed. They are a little on the heavy side, being metal. It turned out that they need a second circular noodle under them to float such that the potted strawberries are not submerged. Also, it is better to lash the guard with the convex over top of the #1 noodle, (so that the dip is sitting on top of the noodle rather than below the noodle like it is in this image — this one will be redone) — they still needed the second noodle under them to keep them high enough so that water just barely reaches the bottom edge of the nursery pots with the strawberries in them. They seem to float just right with the two noodles. I’ll keep an eye on them to make sure they don’t get bogged.

I am getting inspired to think about an aquaponic medium to plant them in without soil??

Those fan guards have been useful for numerous things but were just recently taken down from hanging on nails because they were not being used. They were in a pile of things being sorted and I couldn’t believe my luck when I spied them.

Plastic ones might be even better, but I always like the better fans so have ended up with metal.

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They were tested in this trough first to iron out some of the kinks. Buster has two of them bouncing off the walls of her tank at the moment. There are still a lot of kinks to iron out —  but anything to try to get her water less than pea soup green.

That pile of debris at the fence was a bunch of things corralled around to make another heap to decompose. It’s full of good stuff and was just made a few days before getting involved in this project.

Thank you Marta for your inspiration. Check out her channel. She has all kinds of brilliant ideas.

C’est La Vie

Well, 93.4% of 3GB of storage space have now been used up on this site and WordPress is asking me to upgrade, ($$$), to get more storage. I haven’t checked the price yet, but I have to say, I feel a little resentful that they expect us all to pay to provide content that they can then stick ads all over. If we don’t want the ads, yep, we gotta pay for that privilege too. That’s a little more understandable.

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Jaron Lanier, in his book, Ten Arguments For Deleting Your Social Media Accounts Right Now, advises to get off social media altogether since, if some of us don’t, the providers will continue in their bad practices. And he considers this very way I’ve described as one of the ways they use people, bad practice.

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Investing in a server might be in order? Complaining isn’t useful. Either get on with it or get off. I suspect I’ll be getting off since I’m not sure what the point of engaging in any of it is anyway.

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This may be the last post on firstdonoharmfrontyardfarmacy.com.

I quit FB sometime back. I only felt a twinge of regret lately when I realized that I had linked a blog over at SpoolTeacher.com to a FB album and that all those images are now not accessible — to me or anyone else, (other than FB). It’s like a house I thought I owned burnt down.

C’est la vie.

The regret didn’t last long once I realized that it is all just another thing that doesn’t need to be thought about again. Phew! More freedom.

Yay!

It all started when I wanted a way to document my own progress for myself, alone, to see — an online scrapbook, so to speak.

I used to take pictures and get prints and actually assemble them to look at — just me.

As people started to subscribe, it seemed that it might be a way to have a voice for the way I was thinking about how the world was going.

Recently, 2020 in its entirety as a matter of fact, has only exposed the volumes of people who seem to care not at all about anything resembling truth — most everyone it seems. That’s not to say I have a corner on it — but come on!!!, masks!!!, still???, ever. Does anybody do any research?

Zombies. Zombies. Zombies.

The why is clear—the individual has been overlooked. He has been demeaned. He has been grabbed up and drafted into groups. His creative power has been compromised in order to fit in.

The majority of the world still believes in this approach, as if from good groups will flow the ultimate and final solutions we have all been seeking.

This is sheer mind control, because good groups morph into evil, and vice versa, in the ongoing stage play called reality.

Ideals are twisted, infiltrators subvert plans, lessons are ignored, and the whole sorry mess repeats itself again.

That’s all I have to say. There is no point in trying to influence anyone. Everyone has to find things for themselves.

Those who are wearing masks will certainly be the first to go down the drain with the “savior” vaccine on its way to “save the day” and get us back to “normal”. Very sadly, most probably won’t ever catch on and they will drag the rest of us down with them — that’s why those who “know”, fight so hard.

It’s the Cult of Masks Religion.

The only way to save myself is to not be involved. I can’t be any part of it anymore — it’s all too depressing to see that so few see what’s really going on — and refuse to see.

So…it’s been fun being here, but it’s time for this fun to end and just get on with all the doing. Only I need to see it anyway.

Today I split the water irises up and got rid of some of the mass that was their clumps. I’ve been thinking of putting individual pieces in 5 gallon bucket since they propagate so fast and line the back sidewalk with them. For now, they went into cachepots with mosquito dunks to keep those bugs at bay.

The big pot came all the way from Las Vegas with me when a design client I had there was about to throw it in a landfill. The other littler one I’d let my friend Lois take when I was heading up to the northern part of California in one of my attempts to find my style of living. I came back to S. Cal. for just a little while, and then to here, in 2003, where I am now — Arizona. I stayed with her for a week or so in 2012 and mentioned that that little pot was the only thing I’d had any regret of letting go. She sent it back home with me. She was using it for a handy water reservoir and dog lapping water bowl outside near her succulent building station in her yard.

Her Etsy shop. Do visit. You won’t be sorry: https://www.etsy.com/shop/SucculentSalon

I love that little pot and I love her for letting me have it back without batting an eye. That’s the kind of friends we are — 52 years and counting. I can’t believe it! Can it be? Is my math right?! I was a freshman in high school, 14, when she came strutting up the walk like she owned the place. We were in the same French class. She had a scarf tied around her waist through the loops on her pants, fashioned into a square knot at the front. I thought it was just awesome — so clever — so different — non-conformist. I thought she was awesome. Friends at first sight. She was so, so smart. I wasn’t any good at French and she caught me cheating off her paper for a test. I can’t believe we stayed friends. She didn’t like that at all. I was ashamed. I was also very scared of getting a horrible grade too. Awful times — trying to learn a thing — at 14 — with emotional disabilities.

More c’est la vie.

So, thank you — the ones who subscribed and have been giving me the incentive to bother with it all all along. It has helped me a lot to have a place to “go”. I hope I was a benefit to you in some way too.

While I was writing this, I wondered if I’d separated the irises correctly. They all grew from one single little piece that a girl sent home with me from her tank filled with water plants. It was when I was trying to find ways to keep Buster’s pond clean.

I just need to get a pump and filter. Invest in some solar stuff?? That’s all there is to it.

Well, I found this lady talking about her ponds and think you might enjoy it too:

We could all do well to pay attention to the way this youngish man has made himself the comforts of home with almost nothing too:

Au revoir. And may you all be happy and healthy and quit wearing masks.

Tomorrow I Shall

So, sometimes resources dictate what I will do next. Cardboard has piled up. Sticks and logs are everywhere. There are almost always leaves. There are often branches that can be pruned and weeds ripe for pulling.

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“What needs what?” I ask myself.

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For a couple of years now, one place things have been being stacked is at the edge of the pomegranate tree.

This yard slopes downhill from the far side to the nearer-to-the-house side. That means rainwater has an opportunity to be managed some and needs to be.

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I have only had one year where there was a fairly decent harvest from the pomegranate tree. I have had some rather good success with propagating branches though. There must be five or so of them around here and there now, planted in the ground.

Each year, things have been a little different, one from the other. This year, they didn’t get very big and, as far as I can tell, every one of them has split. That is said to be from irregular watering.

Ya think!?

Yes. it is VERY tricky to keep it watered right. That is why things were getting piled around it — to try to berm around it so that any water that did fall from the sky, could stay there and not run farther down the slope.

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As the resources were assessed today, it seemed appropriate to build a bigger berm all around the downhill side there like a giant crescent.

I thought about taking some of the things out of this gully but there was so much all around, it was decided to leave this be and build it up too. I didn’t get to it today. The pomegranate took all my strength and energy and it didn’t quite get finished either — there is compost intended to be the last topping to cover all the other layers.

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The crescent that was built up all around the chaste tree in the front yard seems to be a big, big benefit to it. It has never looked as good as it has this year — berms/hugelkultur mounds works several things to that end. For one, they help keep moisture from evaporating from the ground around wherever it is — they gradually break down and feed the things nearby — they are habitat to many, many things — lizards love them and lizards love bugs — they use up resources that many people feel compelled to take to the dump. Seems like a win no matter how you look at them.

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I love building them. I love the way they look too.

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Some of those logs that were taken away from the edge of the #1HugelkulturBed in the front yard and put under the #ScragglyTree until they could find a better use, came over here today.

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Logs, sticks, leaves, weeds, kitchen scraps, anything that was usable was used to build this one up today.

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It’s like any kind of organic build up that is hoped to break down in compost mode, a good mix of nitrogen and carbon work best.

And, of course, dirt. Dirt, dirt, dirt. Dirt holds it all in place.

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It was watered several times as layers were added.

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Tomorrow I shall go out and add the well-rotted compost. Maybe I’ll throw some clover seeds all over it. Clover is popping up everywhere suddenly with the monsoon rains. I sprinkled them all over in spring. It just hasn’t been cool or wet enough to please them until now.

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Two different shovels, two different rakes, lops and that fantastic aluminum dust pan were the tools of the day. Some of the pomegranate branches were dragging on the ground so were lopped off and used as one of the greener things — nitrogen in the leaves.

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The poor little plum tree in the back there seems to be on it’s last leg. Two branches sawed off the other day went on the new heap too.

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I’m planning to put one of the chaste trees, currently in tires, in between the pomegranate and the plum tree. Maybe that will get done tomorrow too. They are all asking me for new homes — they seem to have outgrown the tires.

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A little bit of dirt had to be dug out to fit a complicated log there at the end of the crescent on this side. I’ll put that dirt back over the end there tomorrow too.

Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow.

There is always something to do tomorrow.

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Starting to look pretty good — at least to me.

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There was only a handful of kitchen scraps to put in, but they went in anyway.

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This was the first load of compost. Tomorrow the rest shall be put over the top.

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This was a little before today’s finish line, but I thought it was a pretty image to end with. I can imagine lizards are already finding their ways to dig in to the nooks and crannies hunting for bugs and a nice cool place to stay.

It was a good and fruitful day of getting more things done.

Getting Stuff Done

Well, we finally got some monsoon rain and, as usual, it came in with a roar. It started out as pummeling hail with gusting wind and then the giant bucket in the sky was turned over, not at all gently. The weather report had been, “Hot, hot with no chance of rain.”

Monsoons can’t be trusted.

These ten dollar tarps are not even good for one season. It was so brittle already that it shredded with the slightest attack.

I did just put one up on the inside of the covered patio because I’ve put my sewing boxes out there and there was too much sunlight coming through — the fabrics and yarns in them might just fade. The tarps will probably fair better there — not in direct sun.

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You could almost see the weeds, and everything else, grow an inch a minute and sense them singing “Hallelujah!”

I shall let them grow for awhile, (the weeds), and then clip them at their bases so that the roots remain to feed soil livestock and the tops become mulch — chop and drop.

There are the usual varieties of purslane — one edible — one not, (that I know of). I pulled a few out by the roots that were around potatoes so the potatoes wouldn’t have to compete.

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Now to find a better remedy for the cattle panel arches to block the sun for summers. Something that can more easily come off for winters.

All sticks from brooms and mops and pieces of PVC, (that were an attempt at something else long ago), were corralled to think about lashing together to make a thing that can be draped over the top and still let wind through. So far, there aren’t enough elements — but seeing them lying there waiting is good for inspiration.

“What would Andrew Camarata do?” I ask myself. “He’d get out his welder and put something together in no time? I imagine.

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I’ve really been getting stuff done these days. It may be because I’ve been addicted to watching Andrew’s videos where he NEVER gives up when he’s stumped and he goes immediately from one thing to the next, almost without catching his breath. He is so inspirational — “Okay, that’s fixed. Let’s go to the next job,” he says to his dog Levi — and the camera.

Today I watched one where he was unhappy with the way a bucket for his excavator wouldn’t curl enough so that when he tried to transfer loads from one thing to another, if the boom was too high up, the contents would just fall out. Well, he just cut the thing up, expanded it, welded more metal to it and away he went.

 

He should be required watching for the up and coming generations.

Another thing that has come to the surface of my consciousness watching Andrew is that, living in the desert has nowhere near the demands as living in the densely wooded hills of Saugerties, NY and its surrounds — Woodstock and the Catskills being among them. Life is much harder where it is cold, cold, cold and snows. They do have lots of resources though — but the resources require maintenance. That is exactly the business he is in, Camarata Property Maintenance.

Right before the first downpour and rip roaring winds, I had put all the sewing boxes in the covered patio on the side that has the metal panels blocking the view to inside of it. I had also just transferred the gorilla rack to be outside of the metal panels in hopes of using it to grow some sprouts over winter?? Another long piece of furniture was put against the panels on the inside and the boxes stacked on it. I thought it was quite secure.

I had to think again.

The wind knocked the metal panels in and in with them came all the tubs. Fortunately, only a few thing spilled out.

I just simply need to learn how to build a better patio. Or, put a roof on the studio. Or…dare I imagine…quit sewing, knitting and crocheting!!! Not a chance.

Heavy jute string, for now, is holding the privacy metal panels to the gorilla rack until I can think of something better.

Slowly but surely, things are getting done.

If I had the money to pay someone to fix things up right would I appreciate it?

I don’t think so. There is something about the doing that is all about what life seems to be about — being innovative and creative — using imagination. There is nothing quite like it.  It is fun to watch others do things too — but only insomuch as it is useful to inspiring you to do it too.

I’m never short on ideas. The only thing I’m ever short on is materials — so, I have to work hard to make what I have work even harder.

Freedom or money? I never have to think twice about that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

All That Matters

I’m always glad to see big, beautiful Mr. Shire lounging around somewhere. He is here frequently and seems to be less skittish of me — approaching him is down to about six feet before he acts like he wants to run away, but locks eyes with me instead for a second or two before he does. It’s not at all uncommon to come upon him unexpectedly, lying in the vinca on the eastmost sidewalk bed or sitting up on a chair under the scraggly tree. I put out food for him routinely. He’s very welcome here. He’s far too independent to think of anything other than letting him be free.

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Monsoon season hasn’t amounted to much yet — but it is impossible to know when there may be a major event. This is really a hard time to figure out watering. I’ve just about concluded to water regardless as it’s so hot — waiting only stresses things too much and, often, what rain does show up isn’t enough.

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The plants tell the weather. Petuny seems to like the heat.

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Even as hot as it is these dog days of summer, I’ve been out working on things every day. I try not to be troubled by the heat because, in the blink of an eye, it will be too cold. I just try to think of it as weather. Actually, I prefer to feel the elements — it seems to make life more real.

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The strawberries that were in the wheelbarrow over in Buster’s yard were all taken out and put into individual one gallon nursery pots to see if I can get them to perk up. So far, so good. It was getting very hard to keep them stable in that metal vessel.

I’ve been doing the hand washing routinely so that things don’t pile up as much. It’s a matter of pure discipline — even if I don’t want to, I do it anyway. The area that has presented itself, finally, as the best place to do it is the eastmost sidewalk area since it has shade all day long and soapy water draining there won’t hurt anything that matters. Vinca is pretty darned hardy. We’ll see how it does. It may like it.

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Under that seat-less, purple metal chair is a round spot where there had been a planter — so it is just dirt right now with a little jungle of vinca growing up around it that Mr. Shire plops down to hide in and rest. That is where I find him almost every morning. He seems to come from the alley, jumping up onto the block wall and makes his way into my yard. He goes out that way, too, when he gets scared of me or bored. I just put the purple chair there today as I was washing and needed a surface to let things drip through. Now that spot will be cooler for tomorrow as well as a little more private for him.

The main goal these days is to get the covered carport organized and some shelves made so that the tools, hardware, parts and gardening stuff that have managed to get heaped up in the covered patio can go over there and make the patio strictly for the clear boxes filled with sewing stuff. The ultimate goal is to clear the studio out so that when the roof falls in, the sewing stuff won’t be in there. Long, long range plan is to make the studio space some kind of greenhouse. It has needed a new roof since I’ve been here — 2003 — but just hasn’t been possible to do or worthy because there is so much else wrong with it overall.

It’s all so much fun to do and witness progress — though likely very hard for anyone else to see.

All that matters is that I know.

I found this old 1940s film about how best to manage hedges between mixed farms at that time in England. It’s immensely enjoyable to see how much more responsibility and actual handiwork was done in days of old. I hope you enjoy it too.

There are still people who take pride in their work and work very hard to realize their dreams. I’m inspired by this young man, Andrew Camarata — he’s absolutely amazing. He’s about 35. Don’t know how he found the time to increase his talent to this extent — though his father was just like him it seems and had Andrew by his side from his beginning. There doesn’t seem to be anything that this young man can’t, or won’t do.

I have no excuse to not, at least, do my laundry and the dishes as they’re needed doing. It seems to be an issue of mind over matter and braving the elements no matter. Andrew doesn’t let anything stop him and he has the brightest, happiest attitude. Did I mention, he loves dogs?

My Jibber Jabber

One of the benefits of eating only one meal a day, (self-rationing since I won’t wear a muzzle so therefore have limited resources from where to collect food), is that a pair of work pants I was having trouble zipping aren’t so hard to zip now. It also makes me want to stay distracted by doing something that is otherwise equally as rewarding as stuffing my face.

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I had been thinking of giving up my sites for posting things about gardening, sewing and writing, but the darned auto-pay kicked in before I could decide — so, I may as well use the sites since I’ve paid for them. But, I wasn’t in post mode when I started this project so didn’t take any shots of the mess it was before I dug right in.

The act of engagement, in short order, lifted my spirits and I felt more compelled to share the process for anyone who’s interested to see what I’ve been up to.

Right there where the potatoes are was a heap of several layers of deposits of kitchen scraps and other more carbon type debris, as well as some dirt kicked over it all, sitting there slowly decomposing because I was too lazy/hot to dig a trench. The cardboard near the lower right side was in between the layers too.

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As soon as I sensed the nonsense coming our way about muzzling, I stocked up on a few things to make myself feel a teeny, tiny bit better about the ongoing and escalating lack of freedom. One bag of the two bags of potatoes that I hoarded turned to mush in the blink of an eye — it’s awfully hot in my house.

Boy do dying potatoes stink!!! And make a mess on a shelf and all along the floor from where they’re carried to the sink.

So much for hoarding.

The second bag was on its way to turning to mush too — so it was decided to plant them as seeds and see what might just come of them.

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This big tub is where some of them will go. It has holes drilled all around the bottom about an inch up and a few on the bottom bottom.

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A closeup of some of the matter that was put into the trench

So, anyway, in between the #1HugelkulturBed and a little Palo Verde tree that was planted early spring on a mound was a path going somewhat northwest to southeast that looked like a good place to dig a trench — maybe not the best place for planting — but another path can be taken instead of it and the Palo just might like the extra nutrition.

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The image above was after all the stuff that had been sitting there lazily decomposing was raked from where it was sitting and put into the trench. The dirt that was dug out is sitting on the left. Below is after it was covered over with that dirt. Voila, a happy little compost trench full of lots of pincher bugs and such.

Now that path is level between the hugelbed and the palo tree.

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The palo tree is inside the ring of the pot that had no bottom.

A pile of logs that had been lining the edge of the hugelbed went under the #ScragglyTree for now to be used for something else sometime later.

Everything looks a little neater now.

I’ve been getting lots and lots of things done but haven’t been very motivated to bother posting much about it. Blah, blah, blah. I’ve just been trying to stay a little happy, sorting through the happenings and thinking to myself.

Someone I know who claims he knows some secrets he can’t speak of says “Humans have ten years, max, before they won’t exist anymore.” Since he won’t say how he knows, I’m.not.buying! Besides which, whoever knows, how much time they have? The best anyone can do is to stay as happy as they are able, for as long as they possibly can. “Always look on the bright side of life,” is what I say to myself now and to anyone who’s listening to my jibber jabber.

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Here’s a little bright side — quite awhile back, I stuck another bunch of sprouting spuds in among the trees in the #RaisedBed — to feed the soil livestock if nothing else.

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Right after the Monsoons first came along, several of them sprouted. There is just something about Monsoons that everything falls in love with.

There are lots of weeds around them too.

Who knows how far they’ll get — but it sure did please me to see them. It felt like they were saying, “Hi, Mom!!”

So, needless to say, I’m in the house and hungrier than when I started. It’s just about time for my single meal. In between, it also helps a lot to have a lot of drinks of water or some wonderful flavor of sun tea over ice cubes. I have a tiny bar-type fridge with just a top compartment intended for freezing. The only place the ice really freezes in at the front — so I rotate three different plastic tubs with lids and break the one that’s turned to ice with an awl. I can’t find the awl, so I’ve been using a screw driver.

And, I love to drink out of jars.

Life in the fast lane. That’s the way we roll.

Mickey caught in the middle of a sneeze, on the unmade bed where I’m about to join him for a nap and a movie while my rations cook.

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Rock ‘N Roll

The day before yesterday, I was out watering a few things with the nozzle set to jet so that I could stand in the shade and reach things that were farther away. That meant some over-spray — so to speak.

I don’t care anymore about conserving water. I’m so sick of lies I can’t imagine that we are in any more trouble with that then we are of a foreign invasion, (an invasion from within is what is happening). Everything here needs some water, so I let it spray — even if it evaporates, it still has a value to cooling things off some and the air might need a drink or two.

I know, I know. We’re probably in some trouble with water. But like everything else, it’s probably engineered so that Wall Street can gamble on the outcome. The way THEY want to grow food is the culprit. If THEY‘d listen to organic farmers they would know a better way of not wasting water. If THEY‘d let us do a lot of things differently, it’s hard to imagine how good things could be.

But who are they to tell us what to do anyway? THEY‘re not supposed to be the boss of anyone — I certainly don’t agree with anything THEY say.

Like tiny houses for instance — loosen the code on those and composting toilets. Imagine how much water could be saved by not flushing all the good stuff down the sewer pipes.

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Jenna from Tiny House Giant Journey — click pic to read all about it.

It takes 872 gallons of water to produce 1 gallon of wine…

So, before you complain to me, be sure you don’t drink wine.

Coffee is even worse than wine and I drink coffee — every.single.day. Yes, I’m a bother.

I make all my clothes from existing ones or shop for used only — so I do my part — lots of other ways too.

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While I was spraying the air, suddenly I was aware of a dove, sitting inside the chaste tree, taking full advantage of the mist spreading out from the hose.

The chaste tree was in queue for a good soaking — so I stood there with the sprinkle feature directed to fall like rain from above on the dove. I stood, and stood, and stood. The dove blinked and blinked and blinked and looked just like there was a heaven on Earth — blink, blink, blink like one would while they were taking a nice long shower just to keep the water out of eyes.

Eyes seem to do that on their own unless you’re swimming under water and need to see.

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I think I could have stood there all day and the dove would have too.

I think it might be the same dove that greeted me yesterday when I went out near the tree to inspect things again.

“Hello, little lovey dovey,” I admired. “Have you come back to see if I might sprinkle you again?” The little lovey dovey headed to the birdbath instead.

And now today we have some rain.

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And it’s beautifully, beautifully cool.

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The kitties and I are inside playing house.

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There’s the plastic-forcing nemesis acting like an innocent, “Not me! It was Mickey who was doing all the peeing,” says the little Lucy queen.

She’s a lying little kitty cuz I’ve caught her. I’ll have to admit, I’ve caught Mickey too — but he only does if she already did — you know, that male dominance thing.

So this is how we have to rock n’ roll when the kitties are in the house. Everything they peed on has left. What’s left has to be protected.

Bad little good kitties — but they’re worth it.

“What became clear to me is that food is the way to invest in water,” Burry told New York magazine in 2015. “That is, grow food in water-rich areas and transport it for sale in water-poor areas. This is the method for redistributing water that is least contentious, and ultimately it can be profitable, which will ensure that this redistribution is sustainable.”

Oh, the madness of it all. Anyone trying to profit from anything everyone depends on should be in jail upping those profits.

 

Let’s Just Say

OMG! That was a lot of digging. This is pretty much where things were left off last night after an enormous amount of digging. I had to go out again today and do it all again because it still wasn’t low enough or level.

OMG!!!

I must have put the tub in at least four times and dragged it back out to dig some more here or there. It’s not an easy thing to do. By the time it sat what looked like level and was down deep enough to be where I imagined it should be, I did not care if the outlet was where it was supposed to be — I would dig that out better another day.

Two feet down is a lot deeper than it seems. That’s a lot of dirt to excavate. I fantasized about a tractor with a backhoe as I dug and dug and dug and dug some more.

It’s good exercise to say the least.

I put a tarp over it while I tried to shovel dirt to fill in the gaps around it to make it more stable. Then the water filling began. I so wanted to jump in and sit for awhile.

There are still some issues to iron out. I didn’t fill it up around the edges all the way with dirt yet. Not sure how it will be finished off around the outside. For today, mainly I just wanted to get the mounds around it secured enough to not blow in.

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Buster was eyeballing me as I did my best to fashion things so that she can’t get stuck or hurt if she tries to get in — which she is likely to do. I hope she does. I’m hoping the plastic lattice will serve to let her in and help her out. It floats some on the water until a little weight pushes it down. Once she gets in, she can likely crawl out on it if she wants to.

The high mound was covered with fabric until I can get it dug away. Tires were used to hold it down. The boards that were atop her existing pond were brought over to clean and consider for placement on one end until I can refashion the cattle panel to make a shade cover. Buster loves to have cover to hide under too. Things around the edges were just to make it a little safer until I fill the edges up to where they really need to be.

Let’s just say that I was fully exhausted by this point and had to quit.

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Now to clean this mess up and decide what to do with the hole.

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Meanwhile, the kitties were relaxing in the house.

After I took that shot of MickeyMouser, I went with a rag to clean his marks off the doorway. You know how kitties rub ever corner with their bodies.

Stay tuned for a hopeful big finale! And, by the way, it was really amazingly level considering how tired I was when I gave up. It just ran out of one edge slightly ahead of the others. I’m satisfied with that. Pretty dang good if you’re asking me.

The Secret Life

The worse before it gets better stage.

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Yes, my friend came with her truck and the giant tub was brought home yesterday. It wasn’t horribly heavy but it was awkward and not a thing that could be lifted to carry by one person.

The idea of leveraging it over the fence was scrapped — mostly because there are some fairly baby prickly pears that might have suffered some along the fence there that I hadn’t really considered, (it’s hard to see them from the inside of the fence).

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I tried to move it with a flat furniture dolly, but neither the tub nor the dolly would behave — so it got rolled on its side. It turns out it’s more of an oval. Suffice it to say, it wasn’t all that easy but it got there.

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It sure would make a nice soaking pool, but Buster’s first in the queue.

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I’ve been going out in sessions — dig, dig, dig, water, dig, water, dig — get a little exhausted and take a water-drinking, bed-and-movie break and then go out to dig, dig, dig again — several times today so far.

The Secret Life of Pets was in the $5 bin the other day. I’ve watched it twice already. It’s so cute. Now to find the sequel.

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Dig, dig, water, dig…

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I wrote about digging this morning on the Writing Spool blog — but, that was about digging for The Truth.

Truth be told, a lot of insight can be gotten while digging dirt — it’s a little bit like meditating — except for the part where the back breaks.

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David the Good says Compost Everything. Piled on that heap there are even some cotton blankets and sheets that had been being used for shade but got a little riddled. Why not? It keeps them out of landfills. They will probably help keep the heap stabilized a little better??

I’m thinking that a trench running through the plantings like a river might be nice to use for letting out the water when Buster’s pond needs refreshing?? The yard slopes down from the far end to the other end. I’m not sure, (which means some practicing will ensue), if a perforated pipe might have to be buried to the level of the drainage hole from the tub? Any way it ends up, the dirty water can be used to water things along its movement flowing out.

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Water, dig, water, dig, dig, dig. The goal is to dig it deep enough to have the tub just above the dirt enough that dirt can’t get in. Then the thinking so far is some kind of bricks or pavers all around it so that Buster can easily get out to bask. There will also be levels inside made with something?? so Buster has deep and shallow spots for her choosing.

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This is where I left off. I can’t wait to get it done because Buster’s water is awful right now. I’m a little worried that it’s toxic to her. I scoop out as much algae as I can every day. It seems to be right back where I started the next morning. Those water irises don’t seem to be working very well. I sure would like to find some duckweed.

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I did a little hand washing clothes before I started digging. I’m trying so hard to wash right away whatever I exchange for something clean and not let things pile up.

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It was a good day Saturday all in all. We’ll see if I can straighten up tomorrow when I wake up.

Here’s a video I found when looking for whether there was a the at the front of the pets movie title. This appears to be something original by the content provider but looks very, very professional for the little bit I viewed so far. Now it’s time to watch the rest of it.

Secret Life of Pets 2 (not the commercial one)

 

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.