This is just a photo comparison of the water garden. As of the last update (4/10/17), this is what it looked like:
And here it is as of 5/25/17:
–Simon
Weekend Warrior
I think I shortened my lifespan this weekend. There were certainly moments when I wanted to lay down and expire. But rather than make individual posts and cloud the feed, I’ll make a multi-purpose single post instead to feed the cloud (heh, nerd jokes):
You Say Tomato
Yes, I removed more sod. And I think I’ve finally had it with that. There will be no more garden installation this year. Seriously, I hate removing sod.
Note that old cable box from a defunct cable company. I’m going to have to rip that off the wall one day. Anyway, when the house’s seller (the son of the former owner) haphazardly threw down mulch to gain a +10 curb appeal, for some reason he made this side organically-shaped. It’s the only “garden” that wasn’t rectangular. Maybe he got creative. Maybe he ran out of mulch. Who knows? But, this is the SW side of the house, and the ideal location for a vegetable garden. So I had to widen it anyway.
We argued over the tomato-securing system. I wanted to use trellis netting and just have a row of tomatoes. Apparently Liz had experienced that before with her parents and the results were not as expected. But the peculiarities of any garden are unique to their specific circumstances, so this will be an experiment anyway. This year, we’ll try the bamboo poles. Planting to come this weekend.
Mobile Foodies
I admit–food is not my drug. Therefore, the many joys of food novelty are lost on me. Among these is the influx of food trucks. It isn’t really much cheaper, I have to yell over the sound of generators to place my order, and as the customer I’m tasked with finding my own improvised seating arrangements.
But, it is an opportunity to quickly try a variety of food options. And those spicy Caribbean tacos I had were pretty darn good. And it was a fun new experience for the kid, so win.
…Comes Tumblin’ Down
Look at this pine tree:
It appears unimportant to me, priority-wise. It isn’t dying, nor is it leaning dangerously. But my neighbor hated it, and my wife hated it. As I spent my childhood on the Great Plains, it’s still fascinating to me that trees can grow naturally, and not have to be attended to constantly. I like trees, but native Ohioans seem to revel in deforestation for some reason. Ultimately, I conceded to having this one tree removed, were we to need to remove a tree to satisfy the boiling desire of my Ohioan wife to kill a tree.
My neighbor, in his excitement upon hearing word of my concession, and apparently having recently gotten his chainsaw in working order, ran over to greet us with said chainsaw, and expressed his willingness to cut the tree down at that moment–to which my wife readily agreed.
I also have many a memory of the trees in Lubbock dying, and needing to be chopped down. And while my youthful memory likely exaggerates the negatives, I recall dad borrowing a chainsaw to fell the trees, followed by me spending hours with the pruners and bow saw, chopping and cutting, chopping and cutting…
This tree was no exception. 3-4 hours later, and we had grown the firewood supply. And for whatever reason, the women of the neighborhood found it hilarious that I was butchering the tree with a reciprocating saw. I guess, compared to the chainsaw, there was a penis joke in there somewhere.
What the Duck?
Ending on a happy note, a duck and her ducklings wandered down the gutter.
I wonder where she was leading them. I’m not aware of any nearby ponds. But last year I almost hit a duck with the mower in my front yard, so apparently we’re good duck territory despite the lack of ponds…and mechanical chopping machines.
–Simon
Herbaceous
Over the weekend, we managed to finish the herb garden. I say “managed” because as I’ve mentioned before, the sod in this place is brutal. The grass is old and the roots well-established, and the soil contains just enough clay that separating the two is a feat worthy of a strongman competition. And the vegetable gardens will be bigger. I asked the neighbor to borrow his tiller but it’s currently on loan to his son. Maybe I’ll acquire an ox instead.
Anyway, after two days of hacking and cursing, the sod was removed. The soil, now exposed, was begging for vegetation, to which I obliged before it started enlisting local volunteers.
But first, we discussed raising the bed. Despite our valiant efforts of minimizing soil loss, a large quantity still accompanied the sod in its journey to the pile of discarded grass on the side of the house. That, and the benefits of drainage from a raised bed are obvious. Visions of logs sticking out the back of the inadequate Honda dampened my spirits, but then I remembered the leftover 2x4s from the fencing installation. With a little help from the reciprocating saw and sledgehammer, I secured a border with wooden stakes.
A lot of fancy dirt later, and raised bed we had. Lowe’s also had a sale on herbs, which was awfully considerate of them to time that with the weekend of our herb garden project. And, complementing what I had started under the grow lights, we now have a proper garden of fragrance and seasoning–a symbolic requirement to having an established homestead.
Can’t wait for the pesto to start flooding in.
–Simon
A River Runs Through It
Well, a drainage ditch anyway. If you’ve talked to me about the house at all, then you’ve most definitely heard about the drainage issues, or rather, the complete lack of basic drainage. See the Get Off My Lawn! series. The former owner, in her battle against a flooding basement, paid to have it trenched and a sump installed. After purchasing the house, I’ve since extended downspout drainage, and the sump has remained dry ever since.
Until recently. We had a very dry summer last year, and it didn’t give me a good baseline with which to predict future water problems. This spring has seen a lot of water, and now the sump is running. This in itself of course isn’t a problem–the water is being handled dutifully by the pump. Outside, however…
Someone had retrofitted a vacuum hose to the outlet. Again, effective, but incredibly ugly. And then the kid played with it and cracked it, rendering it useless anyway. Now, with water pooling against the foundation, my hand was forced. It was time to finally address this eyesore.
This is the ENE side of the house, under a pine tree. These factors limit my planting options, but it does make a good candidate for a shade garden. First though, I needed to trench. Re-purposing a concrete downspout extender, I could immediately channel the water about 4 feet.
But, this was still rather industrial and ugly, and tended to back up (the sump pump probably spits out about 3 gallons whenever it clicks on). I needed a longer trench and ornamentation. Mattock, shovel, axe, and reciprocating saw all contributed to the project (damn roots). I then buried the pipe, planted the hosta which we saved from the apartment (split apart), added some ferns, purchased more hostas, and voila:
I now have the beginnings of a respectable shade garden, and effective sump drainage. Plus, the mason bees really like it. I like those bees, they’re cute.
–Simon
Decorating the Gas Pole
Over the weekend, Liz decided to begin her front garden project. The edge of the narrow front yard, terminating in a mailbox and pipeline marker, looked very inelegant. And I agreed with her assessment. I hate that ugly marker.
But, there isn’t much I can do about its mere existence. I imagine removing it would be in violation of some statute regarding the easement, and since the BP contractors have so far been very reasonable with us, I’m opting to not jeopardize our tenuous non-aggression pact. So, the pole stays. Other than that, the only restriction was to not plant trees on the easement. But we got an official okay for anything bush size or smaller.
I’m no stranger to removing sod, but this was the hardest yet. I swear the roots were a foot deep. It may not have been virgin prairie, but I’m pretty sure this grass was here since the 60s. The soil also has just enough clay that the roots wouldn’t pull free–rather they had to be cut. Ultimately we had to dig up the sod with a shovel, then shear off the dirt and bottom roots with a stirrup hoe. An hour into the project, Liz rethought the garden’s size. It did give me an excuse to segue into a discussion about how pioneers on the Great Plains constructed houses out of sod though.
In the end, tenacity won out, and garden we had. Now filled with acquisitions from the perennial sale, and some annuals from the indoor grow light experiment, we have enhanced the aesthetics of the front yard, and hopefully, detracted from the glaring prominence of that stupid pole.
Henceforth, it shall be know as the Easter garden.
–Simon