Insectopia

I’m understanding more and more the appeal of hydroponics.  I could grow vegetables in a controlled environment, maximizing yield while minimizing space, all the while eliminating pest problems.  I realize of course that this is an overly-simplified view of gardening, but frustrations lead me to consider it.

This, The Year of the Garden, has me experimenting.  Before I choose how to invest my energy and resources, I have planted a variety of test plants.  At the end of the year I will consider the results of these subjects, then use it as a baseline to decide what to grow in the future.  Except tomatoes of course–I will always grow those.

Still, it’s irritating when something doesn’t work out.  Yet I’m quite the gardening pragmatist on all matters besides tomatoes, so rather that fight nature, I strike bargains with it.  The rabbits are eating my flowers, so I plant beans and clover–something far tastier.  The rabbits in turn have, for the most part, agreed to leave everything else alone.

But, there are forces with which I cannot reason.  And said forces are always of the insecta variety.  I had a tentative relationship with my local ecology, until the Japanese beetles arrived.  Nasty little harbingers of death.  First they attacked my crabapple, then the ash, then the peppers, then the basil.  So I did what I don’t like to do–applied insecticide.  I’ve also installed a beetle trap for the first time.  I don’t like to take these measures because they always have adverse and unpredictable effects on the balance.  But it was either that or lose my entire garden to the scourge.

I had a couple pumpkins volunteer, no doubt from the Jacks who withered away post-Halloween.  And wouldn’t it be cool to grow a pumpkin?  I did successfully manage to do so one year at the townhouse.  My pride and joy this year is big and happy.

Then I noticed some interesting wasps frequenting the plant.  From experience, I generally take that as a good sign, as they prey upon things that eat my vegetables.  But this wasp was one I hadn’t seen before.  Curious, I took to the Internet, but as we can still only search with text, it made identification difficult.  So I consulted a better resource: the family chat.  It is often quite convenient that I have contact with such a variety of biologists whose degrees and hobbies frequently overlap.  I took a photo of the questionable insect and sent it to the group.

Moments later, I received a response.  I was instantly concerned.  Such a quick turnaround couldn’t possibly be good news.  My sister advised me it was a vine borer, followed by the comment: “mother fuckers!’ and the suggestion that I “kill them!!!!” as “THEY WILL DESTROY ALL YOUR SQUASHES”.  I must say, that was very clear and concise expert instruction.  So many of my colleagues could learn from this effective communication.

So it turns out that this little fucker is a moth.  As the name implies, their pupae bore through the stems, often with fatal results.  The myriad of treatment suggestions ranged from targeted excision of the grub to injecting BT.  This seemed like a lot of trouble for a plant I wasn’t terribly vested in, so I guess I’ll just wait to see what happens.  The main stem is already chewed, so I doubt there’s much I could do anyway.  Pity.

Are there any bugs that selectively eat dandelions and thistles?

–Simon

All Hands On Deck

I’m not going to chronicle this, since it’s pretty much the same as painting, but we did finally get around to staining the deck and it looks damn good.  Look at this–it could make a promotional image for an email marketing campaign (and I should know!):

–Simon

Barrel of…Water

Amusingly, it was shortly after writing this post that I received a bourbon barrel from Liz as my anniversary gift.  That isn’t as weird as it sounds.  The traditional year-5 gift is wood-themed, I like bourbon, the last barrel was a nice rustic decoration, and of course it’s been an effective rain barrel and we’ve discussed wanting another one.  And so, she arrived home late one day with this barrel in her back seat, suffering another round of tears to the leather of her car’s interior.  Dry, they weigh about a hundred pounds, although they are very oddly shaped to maneuver solo, but as before I managed to muscle the thing out of the car.  I also had some time off work, so the following day I began my project, leveraging the prior barrel’s lessons to make the second a little better.

This time around, I had a reciprocating saw, so I didn’t break any drill bits.  Also, the wood of this barrel wasn’t as dense, so it was easier to cut.  Still, I think I’ll just go buy a large wood bore bit should I ever do this again.  That would be way easier and would yield a rounder opening.

For the spigot, however, I didn’t want to deviate from the proven method.  Last time, I drilled a 3/8″ hole and gradually whittled it down with a knife until it accommodated a 1/2″ brass spigot.  Manually cutting away slivers of oak is exhausting, but I didn’t want to risk drilling too much and ruining the seal.  It took an hour, and I was thoroughly baked from the summer heat, and I had a bloody knuckle, but eventually I was able to grind away an appropriate hole and forced the spigot in with vice grips.

I also had the same materials available for the screen, which is still working a year later on the other barrel, so I didn’t feel the need to try anything different.  I constructed the same square frame, secured with staples, two layers of nylon screen, and nailed it to the barrel with finishing nails.

This time, I wanted the barrel higher to allow easier access to the spigot.  I already had a couple cinder blocks from a previous abandoned project, and the height was good.  But the base wasn’t wide enough that the barrel’s frame was being supported by the sides, so I extended it with leftover pressure-treated 2x4s.

I worry, when I make these, that I’ll go through all that trouble only to end up with a barrel that doesn’t hold water.  Fortunately, this was not a problem.  I filled it to test, and it held just fine.  Hooray!  I cut the boards and pounded in the spillover–leftover brass piping from the last barrel.  Here’s a final shot with it working as intended with the following rain:

Of course I had to trim the downspout, and I laid a brick spillway, but that’s not really interesting or difficult so I won’t go through that.

Now, I can save about $34 a year.  Ha!  And fear not–I am not a hippie.  I still use chemical fertilizers.

–Simon

When a Problem Comes Along…

To all dog owners out there: if you can, catalogue every single dog photo you’ve taken and compare that to the total number of photos you have saved.  For me, it’s 239/4803.  So, 5% of my photos are dog photos.  I suspect that that figure is fairly normal.

But enough of my rambling.  You want to see dog photos!

I feel pretty
Don’t leave me!
On the road again…
A robe-warmer
Got your head caught in the cookie bag?

–Simon

It’s Not Illegal in Ohio

…but it is illegal in some states.  No, I’m not talking about marijuana (which still isn’t legal here).  I’m referring to capturing rainwater.  For the most part, this law correlates to the abundance of natural rainwater and by definition–how its variations will effect the local ecology*.  Here, no one cares if I capture a 55-gallon barrel of rain because the average annual precipitation for my city is 41.1 inches (according to weatherbase.com), and since 1 inch of rain per acre is 27,154 gallons (according to water.usgs.gov), and since I have 0.48 acres, if I do the math right (27154*0.48*41.1) then I receive an average of 535,694.1 gallons of precipitation per year on my property alone.  Excluding precipitation from the winter months, I have roughly 88.1 days with rain.  Every time it rains, I inevitably capture a full barrel, so 88.1*55 would be 4,845.5 gallons of captured rainwater per year (assuming I capture a full barrel every time–which I don’t because I don’t always use it up before it rains again, and the spigot is necessarily located where I can’t access all the water anyway), which is 0.9% of the total precipitation for that land mass.  Yeah, who cares?

*Except Texas.  Last I checked, they still don’t have revised water laws, despite the depletion of the Ogallala Aquifer.  And of course, there’s the Las Vegas area….

Therein lies the background, but why would I want to bother with this?  Firstly, it’s a free resource that saves me money.  4,845.5 gallons = 647.7 cf, at $26.9 per 1000 cf, that’s… $17.42 saved for the year.  Okay I suppose that isn’t much for an entire year, but still, it’s free.  Secondly, there’s the smug factor.  I’m doing my part for the environment.  Nevermind that I use twice that per shower…. Thirdly, we had the barrel sitting around as a souvenir from our trip to Kentucky, and it wasn’t serving any purpose, and besides–a project!  These reasons were as good as any.

The barrel had sat on the patio for several years at the townhouse, and a lot of water had leached into it in that time.  It was a two person effort to move the thing, so before I did anything else with it I needed to drain it.  Choosing the widest board–the one with the plug–I drilled a hole near the bottom to both drain it and to place a spigot.  The resultant bilge smelled wonderfully of residual Wild Turkey and was perfectly clear with a slight amber color, and having filtered through carbon and infused with ethanol, was probably okay to drink.  Still, I erred on the side of caution and refrained.

While it drained I needed to figure out a screen system for the input.  So I simply cut a board, assembled a square, fastened it together with a staple gun, then attached nylon screen to both sides.

If it can stop a mosquito, we’re safe

Next, I needed to drill a hole in the top.  I admit, this sounded simpler than it was.  I did not fully appreciate the strength of American White Oak, hardened by fire and essentially pressure-treated with bourbon.  Nor did I posses the appropriate tools for the job.  The process claimed four drill bits.

The wood must have been harvested during The Little Ice Age, like the Stradivarius

I wanted the frame removable yet secure, so I opted for 4 wood finishing nails.

It will NOT be a mosquito nursery

Then I had to find a way to attach a spigot.  I went to Lowe’s a perused the plumbing.  My first thought was to attach a bulkhead, but the wood was rather thick for that.  I stood with the parts in had, staring at the barrel, but then I considered that I might be overthinking it.  After all, the beauty of the wood was that it was solid yet flexible, and it’s water-tightness was because it swelled when saturated.  Perhaps the wood alone would make a seal around the brass.  I widened the hole just enough to get the first threads in, then with brute strength and a set of vice grips, forcefully cranked the spigot in.  Then to test it, I positioned the barrel upon a couple beams so it was high enough to access the spigot, filled it partially with water, and waited.  Initially, it leaked, as was expected.  But after several hours, the leak stopped.  Satisfied, I cut the downspout to accommodate the barrel.

And the rain rain rain came down down down
…Non-potable

A year later and it’s still working just fine.  I’ve since drilled an overflow, although in downpours it just spills everywhere anyway.  But I’ve also installed the rain garden since so all the excess flows away.  I’m thinking we could use another one of these for the front yard.  With two, I could save $34.84 a year–enough for a bottle of bourbon.

With overflow, rain garden, brick spillway, and hopeful basil patch to the side

Added to my vegetable garden, it’s one more incremental step towards self-sufficiency.

–Simon