Awoke early (for me) to a pink and gray streaked sky. I forget if things are supposed to warm up or to rain, but it looks to be “partly cloudy” today, with high clouds. Shoulders ache from helping the Neighbor move a huge, 7-foot tall and 4-foot wide pressboard cabinet into the garage. Dang that thing must have weighed
Today we hit the cliff-side to staple down some loose burlap, and sprinkle it with seeds, and then cover with dirt because Wildflowers!
Meanwhile the Mark Rippetoe book (for me to read) and DVD (for her to watch) are supposed to arrive tomorrow.
UPDATE: And finally my subscription of Shooting Illustrated began to arrive. And our HooverPlastic All-In-None Deskjet POS printer has taken a final crap – after years of drinking the HP cool-aid (my bad) I’m going to swill some other murky brown pond-water.
Not really. I’m sure anyone in MA or the Eastern Seaboard (isn’t that like a smorgasbord of seafood?) would beg to disagree. Or people in Nebraska hiding behind the one tree between them and the cold wind blowing down out of Canada, or anybody at 6,000ft – I’m sure they would just laugh. Had ice on the truck roof this morning. Just a little cold tonight, and more colder tomorrow, and colderesque the next, until chillville on New Year’s. Maybe someone in FL would agree.
While things and work around the place are progressing, I am somewhat constrained. The right knee is having a extended duration flare-up of tendonitis at the inner-knee location where the tendon adjoins the fibula – or whatever. Hurtz. It makes it difficult to Operate Tactically and do my usual Ninja-riffic Tacti-O-Rama Flying-Gunstrike Fu, with three holsters.
Instead I am back to a brace, ice, ibuprofen, and a tactical-wobble that works as a hobble. I’m not running away from trouble if it rears its shaggy awful head because I just can’t. I might shuffle. Or duck. Or crawl – no that hurts too. And all of it puts me to mind of ALL the Gun-Fu theatrics that I can’t hope to begin to emulate. So the Mind becomes the weapon, instead of an inanimate object imbued with juju, mojo, and a significance outside its own envelope.
Go forth and keep your magazines loaded.
…you get flash-floods. Feast or famine. Hope you guys way up in Sierraville and also down in the Southland are OK. Maybe one day this state will have a water policy that’s intelligent rather than political,, but ever since the FIRST days of Olde-Californy when the “ditch-tenders” sold water to the get-rich wealthy miners, farmers couldn’t afford it and agriculture had to wait – the supply and demand situation has always been about mo’ money.
With water restrictions we get Sundays and Wednesdays to run the drip-line and even do a bit of sprinkler irrigation, so Sunday morning we set-to it. We had torn-out an overgrown shrubbery of rosemary and started leveling out a(nother) terrace, but the height difference between it and the surrounding is substantial enough, that I started moving some big rocks from the micro-Stonehenge back by the LP tank to shore up the wall. The toothy array was wasted hiding under the big fir, so I deconstructed it and carried them to the new wall-site – except for the BIG hernia-inducer. For that I used the steel hand-truck and rolled it into the foot-plate, and then with the assistance of She, we yanked it up the flight of short steps. Phew.
A big irregular rock out by the Cotoneaster was rotated to a more pleasing rock-wall alignment, and some rotted-out old 2×4’s that were dug into the dirt were pried-up and tossed onto the trash pile. There’s a whole bunch of nasty plastic sheeting, clear and also black, buried in a couple different layers – I think someone was trying to prevent weed-growth but it just looks so hideous now I yank it out whenever I find it.
Another big flat rock was rolled-around to present a better face, and then a fissure in it widened and cracked-open. So I took those now two flat-rocks and used them to face the edge of the mini-parapet on the street-side, and chinked them in with more irregular field-stone. The big hernia-inducer laid-up well as a cornerstone, and the rest of the large ones make the south-facing mini-parapet.
Then it was 88.9° degrees Fahrenheit and 10:00 AM- we’ll be going to about 102° today.. The sun had clocked around so there was no shade in the front yard and the sweat began to roll. Time’s up for watering. It’s starting to look good out there.
UPDATE: The weather scare-mongers were wrong, we caught a breeze (albeit very dry, 11% humidity) and only went to 97°.
UPDATE-UPDATE: Monday 84° at 8:30 AM, 93° at 9:32 AM…we didn’t make it ’till 10:00 AM.
Got the second fan up yesterday, a bit of a wrestling match but I finally pinned it to the ceiling – and then something vessel-like in my thumb let go and I said, “Owww!” It got all purple and was temperature sensitive for a while, but is almost unnoticeable today. The fan is shorter than the old one, and with no dingle-balls hanging off it to catch in my hair – and totally silent in operation. Wiring it up I bypassed the internal switching and put the blue wire together with the red so the light is switched by the plate at the door rather than through the remote. That way I don’t have a useless light-switch at the door where it’s needed, or “empty” wiring in place.
The walnut blades go with the rest of the walnut furniture nicely.
We ripped out a whole bunch of leggy (close to 3-feet), past-sale-date, old Spanish Lavender and installed six little 1/2-gal potted plantlings of English – it’s lower-growing and more fragrant variety called “Thumbalina.” Cute, not? If you’ve been here before you might recognize the next sentence fragment: rocks! We had to move, re-stack, and re-align rocks. Big rocks, small rocks, sooth rocks and rough rocks. Which is actually more fun than it sounds, and the sudden dip in the weather/temperature meant we were ripping-out the denuded lavender while it was cold annd before the bees started swarming around asking, “WTF are you doing to my bzzzz lavender?” And now the hidden pathway that was revealed last month is more well defined by Big Rocks, and the location of drip-line points (Station #8!) can be properly addressed. Yay.
We’re a bit exhausted and Ibuprofen is our friend. 78-feeet of frontage chip-rock, from the lower walkway to the mailbox are now in-filled with river rock. We estimate that each Little Green Deathwagon loaded weighed about 210lbs (min.), and each wagon load was good for 1-foot (at about 4-feet deep) – the math is a but overwhelming.
The graphic has an illusion and is a bent in the middle, an artifact of the panorama-process I guess. In reality the street does not flatten out but maintains a constant incline such as on the left side of the picture, so we rolled a lot of rocks uphill. Owww! My elbows and wrists ache.
Also all the BIG rocks are removed from underneath the Redwood and most off the smaller gravels too – replaced by fluffy cedar mulch. Also the “stream” (drain)-edges are relined with those bigger rocks while the stream-bed now has a mix of smooth river-rock and rough gravels, taken from elsewhere. We only had to buy the cedar mulch, the rocks were already here… AND it’s been a year since we signed papers on the house! (But only since the beginning of November taken full residence.) PHEW! Maybe now I can go ridin’?
We made quite a bit more progress with the rocks, including some stream-bed realignment on the “back-forty” where there’s an erosion issue, and I’ve been handling some of the bigger stones.
In England, a stone is an archaic/Medieval term of measurement. Thanks to Wilkipedia we know that, By the late Middle Ages, international trade, such as England’s exports of raw wool to Florence, required a fixed standard and, in 1389, a royal statute of Edward III fixed the stone of wool at 14 pounds. So what I’ve been playing with are stones that weigh a few stone each – like seven or eight. Not quite boulder-size but big enough to blow a disk or cause a hernia if I’m not careful, so the really big ones get rolled into the stinky little green wagon (from Tractor Supply, some total assembly required, still smells like bunker-fuel or creosote – whatever the Chinese use to make 600lb. industrial plastic is really gnarly) and hauled-up to a likely new location and tipped out.
As seen after three days, the brand-new Wells Lamont leather gloves (Costco three-pack!) have developed a well-worn patina of sweat and some texture. Rock is basically pretty unforgiving, and I have already worn-out two fingers (long/middle), with a third on the way and stitching has come un-done in the palm. In other news the recent internal application of Glucosamine-Chondroitin seems to help the early morning joint-pain – but not as much as Ibuprofen.