Macro Bonsai

Americans have an odd association with the Japanese. Following generational subsiding of WWII resentments, their culture crept into our cinema, represented as a dichotomy of both warriors and meditative perfectionists, personified in the Miyagi-type character (although technically Okinawan). Then apparently they became relentlessly career-oriented, who work themselves to suicide.

And from this toxic life path, Americans are oft compared as a sort of half-sibling, who admire their relentless capitalist pursuits and supposed ability to maintain their dignity of the soul while still contributing to the greater society. I can see it. Work forever to provide and go to church.

But I think we’re more like the Chinese. We approach capitalism in a similar manner of unsustainable growth and consolidation of the wealth therein produced, continue to allow those least suited to lead determine our government policies, and we hate each other (supposedly). And really, no one likes themselves, so dissenting ideologically with an entire culture is probably more telling of a similarity than a difference. (Don’t even get me started on Russia.)

But I also own a katana and aquascape my aquarium. So I’m not entirely disassociated. And then there’s also The Way of the Househusband, which resonates.

And bonsai. No, I don’t practice the art, but I’ve refined my own version: macro bonsai. Translated literally, that would sound like a paradox, but hear me out. As a non-native Ohioan, I like trees. Alas, they are expensive and slow to grow, but not the black locust!

Stage 1 specimen

Locusts have some “advantages” as suburban trees, depending on how you look at it. They’re colony plants, meaning they appear in non-forested areas before other trees, thereby starting the first stages of forestation. Obviously in areas where suburbanites don’t want trees, such as landscaped lawn where one’s landscaping company would charge extra for the bother of mowing around a tree, they’re undesirable. However, if one were to happen to appear in a desirable location, such as an open lot needing some shade, they present an opportunity to quickly attain canopy.

This is because they sprout from the ground as root suckers. A local parent plant, spreading its roots, will reproduce this way. The new tree, being attached to the parent, has access to the larger root system. So it grows quickly. Add to that the fact that locusts are legumes, and fertilization remains largely unnecessary. They’re completely self-reliant.

Stage 2 specimen

But they do need training. Following emergence, new growth is bushy. To obtain a tree shape, side branches need to be trimmed off as the plant grows. They’re also very thorny at this stage, but fortunately my trees are of the variety that the thorns stay small and disappear completely on larger trees. Regular trimming will also force upward growth, leading to quicker canopy.

Stage 3 specimen

Ultimately it’s a matter of personal taste as to which side branches should be left to grow, and each tree and its location is unique. But all side branches should be removed unless the growth is vertical, until the minimum desired height is achieved. In my case, my own height is the benchmark. If I can walk under the tree without ducking, then it’s at minimum required height and I start letting side branches above this height start to grow and fill out the canopy.

Stage 4 specimen

Beyond this, it’s just a matter of letting it grow until it becomes the electric company’s problem. Total time involved: 2-3 years. Not bad for a free tree, and it’ll grow faster than anything manually planted.

Stage 5 specimen, which had the unfortunate experience of being pollarded by the falling silver maple, but bounced back nicely.

It’s a much shorter timeframe, and using much larger trees (a native, in fact), than bonsai. I think I’ll call it dendroforming instead, to give it a more western type nomenclature. It certainly isn’t Japanese, but I’ll give them a respectful nod at their influence.

–Simon

Bourgeois Booze

It’s funny – I remember a line in The Catcher in the Rye where the whiny social commentator protagonist reflects on the overuse of the term “bourgeois” and his disdain for those who use it. If memory serves, and I’m not looking this up to verify right now, it’s the adjective form of Bourgeoisie – the rising merchant middle class in France, which at the time was a new concept in their history of traditional peasant/aristocrat societal roles. Acting bourgeois was attempting to be aristocratic, sans-title, through money alone. It’s not difficult to find modern examples of this behavior, ergo the term’s continued prevalence today (though I doubt many who use the term could provide so eloquent a definition).

But like the whiny Holden Caufield, I agree with its overuse. Worse, we’ve dumbed down the pronunciation. “Bougie” is its contemporary variant, which I quite frankly find to sound uneducated, although that may be the point, seeing as the term is only used in the context of punching up. The well-off might suffer delusions of nobility, but the social elites have no need to acknowledge those beneath them at all. The term’s usage, therefore, appears to be reserved for those at the bottom, who berate those slightly above them for perceived snootiness.

A modern variant is the Yuppie, of which I myself have been previously accused. When you rise above, there’s jealousy by former equals, and in flow accusations of ostentation, no matter how seemingly benign. Oh well. I’ll file that away for future analysis after I drink this bourbon, which I’ve placed on our new home-made bougie Yuppie liquor shelves!:

I lamented just recently on how difficult it is to find well-made niche products, and how the better alternative is to instead build it oneself. This applied, unexpectedly, to some very basic shelving as well, which was needed to more efficiently store liquor that did not fit upon the cabinet with the rest. Some stained oak planks and mounting hardware solved the problem. Additional storage built. For storage.

…And maybe to display some of the nicer stuff. There’s the Bougie factor, I suppose. Guilty after all.

–Simon

That Which Can’t Be Found…

…can be built!

I’m growing increasingly weary of the construction quality of purchased products. It’s nothing new, of course. Every product, once popular, is imitated by other manufacturers (patents allowing). And what begins as a consumer-friendly price reduction quickly turns into marketing gimmicks to build brand loyalty, followed by a race to the bottom. The prices stabilize somewhere beneath the original price, and then once that maximum price a consumer is willing to pay for the product is determined, the profit margin can only increase by reducing manufacturing costs. Ergo, in capitalism, a good idea turns into a readily-available mediocre product that breaks much sooner than it should. And we put up with it.

But what really irks me is when I can’t even throw money at the problem and find a luxury-priced version of an item that’s actually built better – what I call the “lazy tax”. Apparently I’m an aberration to consumer spending habits, for what I want usually doesn’t even exist. And in the time I spend searching for the unicorn, I could have built it myself.

So fine! Here’s my new cucumber trellis:

Constructed with treated lumber, PVC-coated fencing wire, and deck screws; this bad boy certainly isn’t going anywhere. Especially since it’s mounted to stakes driven 3 feet into the soil. Total price? I dunno, maybe around $40? Certainly no more than $50, considering I had some materials on hand already.

A flimsy bent wire prefab? Definitely more.

Don’t stand for this people! By all means, be lazy and spend your money. That helps the economy and drives up shareholder stock values (hopefully mine, most importantly). But don’t settle for cheapness!

Wasting your money on cheap imported good is definitely American, but so is ingenuity.

Lecture over.

–Simon

Mosquito Wars

A year ago I installed a mosquito bucket, inoculated with Bacillus thuringiensis, which supposedly kills larvae before they pupate into bastard bloodsuckers. I remained unconvinced.

It turns out that the color of the bucket makes all the difference, as mosquitos, being the tiny demons that they are, like darkness. So when last year’s bucket cracked, I replaced it with a black one.

And behold!

It’s difficult to tell from the photo, but there were larvae (those white grub things). And one was dead. I’ll take that as confirmation that the deathtrap is now finally working!

Small victories.

–Simon

Appliance Augmentations

When a big ticket item needs purchasing, a person should contemplate and thoroughly research available replacement products that are on the market. Making an informed decision not only increases the chances of finding a selection that most appropriately fits the user’s needs, but also decreases the chance of choosing a product that emphasizes form and marketing over proper function and longevity.

Of course, there are other schools of thought.

And so Liz bought a new stove.

The old stove – the one that came with the house – had started acting funny. The right burners would fail to keep a set temperature, then randomly switch to high. This resulted in boiled over rice and pasta, and swearing. Then the burner wouldn’t turn off. Many problems, Whirlpool.

Of course the prior homeowners didn’t tile the entire area behind the stove, either. And the new stove, with its frontal controls (an obvious layout decision, so one doesn’t have to reach over boiling pots to operate the appliance), lacked an integrated backsplash.

So then we had to add one.

Okay, that problem was solved. But guess what? The outlet isn’t recessed, so this stove, lacking the backsplash control panel, doesn’t sit flush against the wall because of the outlet gap. This left an inch in which any manner of objects could fall behind.

So after some joint brainstorming that involved overthinking potential solutions, the internet revealed that there are products specifically manufactured to address this problem. Essentially a bracket that sits in the gap, mounted to L-brackets on the cabinet sides. Simple, right? Ohhh no. Because the gap bracket just floats on the mounts and popped out the instant I pushed the stove against it. So I drilled a hole through it and mounted it to the stove itself using the existing screw holes that attach the stove’s back to the unit. This held it in place while I forced the stove back against the backsplash and on top of the brackets. Jeez.

There! Finally, a nicely installed stove with backsplash and gap filler.

The appliance itself? Well, so far it heats very evenly and consistently. I’ve made some very nice bread with it. It has a lot of functions I haven’t played with, like air fryer mode and and moist baking. I’ve once again jumped forward 10 years in technology and have to figure things out again. But at least I’m not boiling things over anymore.

–Simon