Saturday, May 5, 2007
Just a lot of stuff
My better judgment tells me I should be fleshing out some of the more important catch up posts, the beginnings of some of which have been sitting in the draft stage for a couple of months, but, well...I feel newsy, at the moment.
The sale of our car will be unofficially completed on Tuesday with the transfer of cash and title; officially completed on Friday, when the new owner-to-be comes by with a temporary three day registration and drives the car off our property. He's got the battery in his possession as we speak, charging it in the hopes that it will allow him to drive the car home. Otherwise, he and his brother will tow it off our property.
We developed a plumbing problem which required partial repiping and rerouting of the plumbing underneath our kitchen sink. The surprise wasn't that the problem came to a head; it's been predicted since we've owned the house by every plumber or handyman who's worked in there; it's that the nasty plumbing mechanics underneath our sink held up for ten years. Finally, due to a minor garbage disposal clog of which I wasn't aware, when I ran the dishwasher Tuesday night a connection blew and I awoke Wednesday to a sloshing kitchen floor. Although insurance would have taken care of the clean-up, I wasn't interested in waiting. The under-sink cabinet wasn't affected...the water drained out of there quickly. The plumbing, of course, wasn't covered by insurance, so we're looking forward to the money from the car sale.
This put a hitch in our hired yardwork plans, though. I decided it would be best if we only hired our guys for one day this week, yesterday, and wait for two weeks for another visit. I'm not sure how much more concentrated hired work we'll need this season. Between the two or three (one of them has classes on Fridays...the other two work for an earth moving company Mondays through Thursdays), our entire property is shaping up very nicely. Yesterday was dump day. Three loads and one more to go. Most of the wood harvested from dead trees is going on our woodpile, of course, but we don't need any more kindling and certain types of branches, like pyracantha, are not good for burning. A couple of the dead trees are staying because they house bird and rodent families. I've directed the guys to leave the last quarter of our property alone in order to encourage wild animals. They'd love to get their hands on it, but they've been good about restraining themselves. So, now, we have three well defined zones: Domesticated, semi-wild and wild.
Yesterday, on their third dump run, a truck from K-Mart was dumping flat after flat of a variety of plant seedlings. The experienced gardener in my group asked the driver if there was something wrong with the plants...insect or chemical infestation. The driver said, no, they just weren't selling. Hordes of dumpers descended on the plants. My guy picked up some basil plants (a couple of varieties) and one tomato plant for us and several seedlings for his garden. He set ours in yesterday after the dump. I can't help but muse that the female member of our neighbors to the west, were she alive (she died a couple of years ago) would be relieved that I'm finally gardening. Yesterday evening, while Mom was napping, I picked up one of those tomato fences that is supposed to control the growth of the plant and keep it from sagging all over itself. It should afford a bit of protection from nibbling visitors, as well. I'm now considering some fencing but, I don't know...we'll see how it goes. The tomato plant and the basils all survived the night. The basils were so well developed that I used some of the leaves in a salad last night, as well as the well developed shoots from our once-wild onions, which our gardening yard worker split and reset. Both were so flavorful that my mother and I exclaimed several times over our salads.
While I was picking up the tomato fence and, as well, some apple/pear tree fertilizer (organic), I spotted one lone bag of gladiola bulbs on sale. My mother loves gladiolas and I know they grow well here, so I couldn't resist. Now that I have an idea how to do this stuff from watching our gardening yard worker and asking him to explain what he does, I think I'll set those out this week, once the rain stops and the weather warms. I've also got an old box of wildflower seeds, some free packets of baby's breath and poppies that I picked up here and there, some rununculous seeds, some huckleberry seeds and the gods only know what else. I'm going to find all those and scatter them around, rake them into the soil and spend a little more on water while they get going. It'll be interesting to see how many of them come up and aren't eaten. Since I have expert continuing yard advice, I'm also considering trying roses, again. Of the batch I tried to nurture a few years ago, one has survived despite my black thumb. That one is now under extreme care and appears ready to thrive.
It has occurred to me that grooming our yard for expected seasonal development from year to year may engineer a subtle incentive to keep Mom headed toward her goal of making 120 years (or thereabouts). She ached to get out in the yard, yesterday, but the wind howling through our trees scared her. She considered it cold, as well. I guess it was, but, you know, when you're out there working it has to be a lot colder than usual to feel it. She sat just inside the back Arcadia screen door, yelled questions and directions to us and kept the cats company. All three of our yard men have fallen in love with my mother. They regularly respond to her, ask her opinions about where plants should be set or how they should be groomed...basically court her involvement in the yard and the work.
As it turns out, one of the other guys is also a do-it-all handyman, so, it looks like we've got some available handy work help, should we need it. I'm relieved about this.
A local blogfest is happening this afternoon in Prescott. I received plenty of advance notice on it and waited for several days to decide whether to attend...it depended on Mom, what hours she was keeping, etc. For the last some days, despite her energetic interest in our yard transformation, she's been awake/asleep at unusual times and quite hazy, so I decided not to go this year. She's experiencing a pretty concentrated Dead Zone episode. Last night she had memories of her brother dying before he was an adult (he actually died when he was 62 and my mother had an extended visit with him just hours before he died). Later, she insisted on writing letters to the same brother who became an adult in her mind (which I allowed her to do...last night wasn't a good night to re-break the "news" of her brother's death). She also decided to write a letter to an old beau by the name of "Leo Miller" (I'd not previously heard of him), to whom her brother had introduced her before she went to college. By the time she'd composed a few paragraphs she couldn't remember who "Dear Leo" was, even with prompting. She's also been obsessed with calling "Mother" (her mother) for Mother's Day, this year and has been absolutely insistent that her grandfather and uncle are alive. Depending on the moment, I either confirm or correct her perceptions. Mostly, though, over the last few days, my contributions haven't mattered. Otherwise, she's doing well...we're just in a significant time warp right now. Not a good time to steal away, or to take her to an event that would, no doubt, be extremely confusing for her and require a lot of distractive attention from me.
We're just approaching her 12-hour-night-sleep-limit. Better check on what kind of a day we'll be having.
Later.
The sale of our car will be unofficially completed on Tuesday with the transfer of cash and title; officially completed on Friday, when the new owner-to-be comes by with a temporary three day registration and drives the car off our property. He's got the battery in his possession as we speak, charging it in the hopes that it will allow him to drive the car home. Otherwise, he and his brother will tow it off our property.
We developed a plumbing problem which required partial repiping and rerouting of the plumbing underneath our kitchen sink. The surprise wasn't that the problem came to a head; it's been predicted since we've owned the house by every plumber or handyman who's worked in there; it's that the nasty plumbing mechanics underneath our sink held up for ten years. Finally, due to a minor garbage disposal clog of which I wasn't aware, when I ran the dishwasher Tuesday night a connection blew and I awoke Wednesday to a sloshing kitchen floor. Although insurance would have taken care of the clean-up, I wasn't interested in waiting. The under-sink cabinet wasn't affected...the water drained out of there quickly. The plumbing, of course, wasn't covered by insurance, so we're looking forward to the money from the car sale.
This put a hitch in our hired yardwork plans, though. I decided it would be best if we only hired our guys for one day this week, yesterday, and wait for two weeks for another visit. I'm not sure how much more concentrated hired work we'll need this season. Between the two or three (one of them has classes on Fridays...the other two work for an earth moving company Mondays through Thursdays), our entire property is shaping up very nicely. Yesterday was dump day. Three loads and one more to go. Most of the wood harvested from dead trees is going on our woodpile, of course, but we don't need any more kindling and certain types of branches, like pyracantha, are not good for burning. A couple of the dead trees are staying because they house bird and rodent families. I've directed the guys to leave the last quarter of our property alone in order to encourage wild animals. They'd love to get their hands on it, but they've been good about restraining themselves. So, now, we have three well defined zones: Domesticated, semi-wild and wild.
Yesterday, on their third dump run, a truck from K-Mart was dumping flat after flat of a variety of plant seedlings. The experienced gardener in my group asked the driver if there was something wrong with the plants...insect or chemical infestation. The driver said, no, they just weren't selling. Hordes of dumpers descended on the plants. My guy picked up some basil plants (a couple of varieties) and one tomato plant for us and several seedlings for his garden. He set ours in yesterday after the dump. I can't help but muse that the female member of our neighbors to the west, were she alive (she died a couple of years ago) would be relieved that I'm finally gardening. Yesterday evening, while Mom was napping, I picked up one of those tomato fences that is supposed to control the growth of the plant and keep it from sagging all over itself. It should afford a bit of protection from nibbling visitors, as well. I'm now considering some fencing but, I don't know...we'll see how it goes. The tomato plant and the basils all survived the night. The basils were so well developed that I used some of the leaves in a salad last night, as well as the well developed shoots from our once-wild onions, which our gardening yard worker split and reset. Both were so flavorful that my mother and I exclaimed several times over our salads.
While I was picking up the tomato fence and, as well, some apple/pear tree fertilizer (organic), I spotted one lone bag of gladiola bulbs on sale. My mother loves gladiolas and I know they grow well here, so I couldn't resist. Now that I have an idea how to do this stuff from watching our gardening yard worker and asking him to explain what he does, I think I'll set those out this week, once the rain stops and the weather warms. I've also got an old box of wildflower seeds, some free packets of baby's breath and poppies that I picked up here and there, some rununculous seeds, some huckleberry seeds and the gods only know what else. I'm going to find all those and scatter them around, rake them into the soil and spend a little more on water while they get going. It'll be interesting to see how many of them come up and aren't eaten. Since I have expert continuing yard advice, I'm also considering trying roses, again. Of the batch I tried to nurture a few years ago, one has survived despite my black thumb. That one is now under extreme care and appears ready to thrive.
It has occurred to me that grooming our yard for expected seasonal development from year to year may engineer a subtle incentive to keep Mom headed toward her goal of making 120 years (or thereabouts). She ached to get out in the yard, yesterday, but the wind howling through our trees scared her. She considered it cold, as well. I guess it was, but, you know, when you're out there working it has to be a lot colder than usual to feel it. She sat just inside the back Arcadia screen door, yelled questions and directions to us and kept the cats company. All three of our yard men have fallen in love with my mother. They regularly respond to her, ask her opinions about where plants should be set or how they should be groomed...basically court her involvement in the yard and the work.
As it turns out, one of the other guys is also a do-it-all handyman, so, it looks like we've got some available handy work help, should we need it. I'm relieved about this.
A local blogfest is happening this afternoon in Prescott. I received plenty of advance notice on it and waited for several days to decide whether to attend...it depended on Mom, what hours she was keeping, etc. For the last some days, despite her energetic interest in our yard transformation, she's been awake/asleep at unusual times and quite hazy, so I decided not to go this year. She's experiencing a pretty concentrated Dead Zone episode. Last night she had memories of her brother dying before he was an adult (he actually died when he was 62 and my mother had an extended visit with him just hours before he died). Later, she insisted on writing letters to the same brother who became an adult in her mind (which I allowed her to do...last night wasn't a good night to re-break the "news" of her brother's death). She also decided to write a letter to an old beau by the name of "Leo Miller" (I'd not previously heard of him), to whom her brother had introduced her before she went to college. By the time she'd composed a few paragraphs she couldn't remember who "Dear Leo" was, even with prompting. She's also been obsessed with calling "Mother" (her mother) for Mother's Day, this year and has been absolutely insistent that her grandfather and uncle are alive. Depending on the moment, I either confirm or correct her perceptions. Mostly, though, over the last few days, my contributions haven't mattered. Otherwise, she's doing well...we're just in a significant time warp right now. Not a good time to steal away, or to take her to an event that would, no doubt, be extremely confusing for her and require a lot of distractive attention from me.
We're just approaching her 12-hour-night-sleep-limit. Better check on what kind of a day we'll be having.
Later.
