The exquisite itch

My father still owns the house, but my brother and live there. I, at least, until I can find a job in the valley and move to 1006. My father always kept the lawn, the "compost pile", and the garden all very carefully segregated. Now it's my job, and it's a big one! I'm planning to integrate the three areas somewhat so as to make it more manageable to the point where it not only looks decent but is easily cared for by one single, very lazy stoner who could give two shits about (yard) work.

Even by myself, sober and properly motivated, I wasn't able to keep up with the raking last year, and got caught with leaves on the yard when the first snow fell. That's when I decided that I need to conceive of an alternative to the classic lawn, with its broad expanses of high-maintenance, otherwise useless grass. This season, since the lawnmowers at Medford have been out of commission, and Gilbertson up the street has been mowing our lawn with a riding mower I haven't been too motivated about fixing them. But that still leaves corners and grades left unmowed. My low-tech response has been to start collecting corrugated cardboard boxes from work (and I can get a lot of them, in increments if I'm willing to wait) that I've started slowly mulching the lawn grass to death with. That option leaves an eyesore too, but I can live with it temporarily. It's all part of a several year project to foster a low-mow to no-mow lawn, allotment-style garden around Medford.


I originally started by overlapping the edges and tacking them down with nails (which didn't work), and then old chop sticks (which didn't work for long) and finally decided just to simply throw some logs on top to weigh them down. Rain helps, too but is usually accompanied by wind - no good. By the time the leaves start falling in October Scotty will come looking for the logs I've borrowed. Which is perfect timing because by then the leaves should be falling and I'll simply rake them right over the top of the cardboard "mulch" instead of having to schlep them all to the single, centralized backyard compost heap (the lawn's a ½ acre with a dozen or so very big trees, and a hell of a lot of work for one guy and a rake!)

I'd initially conceived of pulling the cardboard back up after a couple months and planting my perennials there but the problem of keeping the cardboard down in the mean time has forced the idea to evolve to the point where the cardboard and the lawn clippings, dead leaves, and anything I weed become a permanent and integral part of the landscape. I don't believe the cardboard by itself is a very effective mulch, just like I learned the hard way the dead leaves, etc. raked off the lawn aren't a very effective mulch by itself. But together the two should work as a impervious barrier to any unwanted vegetation - including lawn grass! This way when I'm ready to plant, whether later this autumn or next spring, I simply dig a hole straight through the mulch and decomposing cardboard. There was a question raised about the safety of the formadehyde that's present in traces in corrugated, but guess what? Plants readily break that down and it becomes nitrogen in the soil! The plants that are planned for this area are such that can basically be ignored or admired all year long for their sagey goodness, harvested, or simply cut back in the fall and then more leaves from the lawn are raked over the top. The lawn becomes the garden becomes the compost heap becoms the garden.

So, the idea as it stands is to border the yard along the little slope with (3) artemisia absinthium, (2) hyssop officinalis, and a border of agastache foeniculum (so far I've only 3). In addition I'd like to check into getting a load of rip-rap dumped here to include some rock features. Voila! The Absintheur's Garden.

Later on in the fall, when I've photo-documentation and after I get a handle on how well this scheme works I'll hatch my plan to further reduce mowing, reduce leaf raking, and have an organic vegetable garden in raised beds made using cardboard boxes.

Dontcha wish everyone with the Craxy also possessed the ability and desire to transorm that energy into beautiful and fantastic art? This is my friend, Belle!

She's out in San Francisco these days in the capacity of an art therapist. She's the one who helped me to realize that I'm not an artist and, although she'd disagree with me on this, that I should probably stop making myself out to be one. I'm miserable enough as a "visual problem-solver" and that'll do me just fine. Thanks for sending these along, Belle!

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Bottling tonight. . . yay, my favorite part of the brewing process. Need another growler so that I'll two different beers set aside for Thanksgiving, two for Christmas, and still be able to bring a couple growlers with us to Richmond this Sunday. I'm getting to the point where I have more ripening beverages than I have recepticles to package them in. Catastrophic! calling all local alcoholics! Drink more beer from compression fitting bottles (not twist-offs) and donate your garbage!

Giving sample bottles of beer away to friends is a pleasure and privilege, but it's one of the main reasons that homebrewing will never ever pay for itself. I have no problem parting with the 'pops' (12 oz. bottles) despite the time and energy I put into removing labels, cleaning, and capping them, but it is nice to have them returned to me only because they're that much easier to reuse. I should start the practice of 'magic bottles' for folks who return empties promptly. I've come across a couple of odd sized bottles - 1 pint, 9 fl. oz. with the standard compression fitting tops that can serve as my 'magic bottles'. The premise is to reward folks that have historically returned glass or provided bottles to begin with by gifting them one or two of these odd bottles with the promise that I will advertize the beer of the month, or however often, with an approximate bottling date and if they're interested they can return the bottles to be filled with the rest of the house swing-tops and if they lose it. . .uh, Fuck 'em! From there I move almost exclusively to bottling in swing-tops with the exception of, maybe, six to twelve 'pops' to give away. I'll be filling two 'magic bottles' tonight; and Drewski, of all people, was quick draw on the alt.

Now I know why Stephen (with the unprounceable German name) who writes for the Beer & Wine Times suggested, even before I had acquired all of my equipment, that I transition into kegging as soon as I could afford it. Bottling sucks!

So begins my life as a gimp. Went to the doctor today about my knee (whaaa! My knee hurts, doc!) so you know it must've gotten bad. It's still not good here a full week later, but while H and I were in Chincoteague it felt by Saturday that I had aged forty years in two days. I told the doc that it stems from an acl and meniscus injury I sustained in a introductory Kung Fu class back in '96 where the instructor failed to stretch us before hand. I had it surgeried later in the year and lately the menicus injury's been giving me trouble - and a lot of it!

Doc said there's not a whole lot at this stage that there's to be done about it. On the one hand there's still a screw in there that held the torn acl in place while it healed but is only taking up space now. Removing that could very well do more harm than good. So it's a balance between how many days per year I'm willing to limp around on it as it is, and how much more damage I'm willing to risk to stave that off for a few more years. She tells me that the orthoscopic surgery that I had ten years ago isn't performed nearly as often since the advent of better mri technology. So I was sent home with a referral to an orthapedic surgeon whom she warned me is 'in the business of selling surgeries' and a pamphlet of exercises designed for the 'care and feeding of your bum knee'. Here are my options and the choice is mine.

But this is why I really appreciate Doc Moghissi she doesn't try to sell me on procedures and medications I don't need, and she takes the time to dumb down the how's and why's of the issue at hand so that I'm better able to make a decision about what I can do about it. Never does she try to tell me what I need to do. . .

So in the ten years I've had her as my PCP (dealer?) I've brought to her only three 'issues' but she's has never steered me wrong.
( for your viewing displeasure. squik factor: elevated )

I finally managed to cull all the bits of my home computer together after the move, and now that I have access to my editting tools I've decided that I don't have enough pictures on my journal.

I've lived in this house for over 30 years and I've seen water get pretty high, but not ( like this )
I'm just glad very little got into the house.

Oh.my.fuckin'.Gawd!!!!!!!!!!

I just had an apple pie experience that's as over-the-top, balls-out American as watching the un-rated version of Team America with your parents.

ladysoleil, I have seen the light.


H made this! Her first apple pie.