Eighty-Eight

Eighty eight aint no Tyewhoppity.
But Tyewhoppity aint no Black Gnat.

If you ask me that is.

Splash Pad

Whiskey barrels loosen up if they dry out. I had this one inside as a table while it was waiting for it's day in the rain. I had to fill it up to let it soak and I had to pound the rings back toward the middle with a wood block and a mallet. It leaked like a sieve at first but it didn't take long for it to swell tight again. Don't give up on it quick. In a day or two a barrel should hold tight again.

Didn't want a mud hole under the tap (which isn't in yet in this picture) and needed a flat place to put a watering can while it filled. I made these concrete stepping stones years ago when I lived in Florida. They're easy. Just place a bunch of bricks on an old piece of plywood to make a form and fill it with concrete mixed a little too wet. Drift in the junk and let it sit. That's pretty much it.

Addicted to Rain

After seeing how much rain I could gather off the chicken coop roof I got to thinking how much roof I own. And, defacto, how much water I might be able to gather. I admit to feeling a bit greedy. Now I'm addicted to rain barrels and have an idea for an above ground concrete cistern.

While that idea kicks around like Ruby in the womb here's a picture of our latest water gathering station. I like the way the whiskey barrel looks with the house. Better, visually, than the plastic variety. With this is old Four Roses barrel I now have just more than 100 gallon storage capacity.

The vine by the barrel tank is hops, a relative of both the mulberry tree and pot. I love the foliage of hops and you can train the vines to go where you would like. In this case, an arch of green from the post to the back door. I heard that pillows filled with dried hop buds promotes deeper sleep.

Next post I'll let you know how I hook into the gutter supply. I just went up on the roof and found out my gutter is full of detritus. Gotta go deal with that.

Catchin Rain off the Coop

I have been meaning to put in a rain barrel to catch water off the back of the chicken coop for some time now but a big pile of broken bricks has been holding me back. On Sunday, the first real dry day in some time, I put the neighbor boys to work helping me load all those bricks in the back of the truck to haul off. John and William are 10 so their help is minimal but well intentioned. I also hung an old kitchen sink that Barbara and Andy gave me some time back off the back fence. It will be my garden sink. Mike Ratterman gave me the rain barrel and an old 4x4 that used to be a fence post to build the rain barrel platform out of. Today I hung the gutter off the back of the coop and got everything set to catch the rain. I used heating vent filter material to let the water in but keep any mosquitos out.

It feels good to be able to provide your own food and water. Now when I water the hens my source is right by the coop and Louisville Water Company is out of the picture. At least as far as the chickens are concerned. I didn't think I'd be saying this after such a wet spring but I'm kind of anxious for it to rain now. I want to see how much rain it takes to fill the thing. It's fun feeling like a farmer living in the city.

Bellydancing Girl

The other day I checked out some bellydance music from the library. In searching for an image to associate with the cd on my iTunes I found this 1920s post card. I love the coloring. The pearls are nice too. Just thought it needed to be shared.

Pumping Gas with Mouse Ears On

Last night I attended the Squallis Puppeteers annual Fools Day Fund Raiser. The theme this year was "Forest of Fools" and those attending were given the option of donning animal ears as part of the merriment. I selected a set of gray mouse ears that matched my graying hair pretty well. Too well really. By the time the evening was drawing to a close Carmen was tired so I took her home before returning to help strike the set and return the decorations and party supplies back to the Shark Tank headquarters of the puppet gang. I had completely forgotten that I was sporting the set of ears when I pulled into the Broadway Chevron a little past midnight to get a little petrol into my below E tank. As I was pumping a few gallons of gas in my truck there were two angry drunk fellows arguing about some kind of soured drug deal just a dozen feet from me. I kept my eye on them not really knowing whether their anger would spill over to me as an innocent bystander. The conversation got more and more aggressive and I half way expected to see a weapon appear when one of the guys just started laughing.

Angry guy 1: "Mother fucker you don't do me like that without gettin your ass whooped. Now give me my god damn money mother fucker or I'll cut your ass."
Angry guy 2: (starts laughing)
Angry guy 1: "What you laughin at mother fucker? I put a cap in your ass."
Angry guy 2: "I ain't laughin at you mother fucker. That white dude over there with ears on be freakin me out."
Angry guys 1 and 2: (laughing at me and pointing at me pumping gas with mouse ears on)
Me: "What? You mother fuckers ain't never seen mouse ears before."

What the Easter Bunny brung me.

I was almost ready to declare the Easter Bunny an imaginary construct. Another one of those false emissaries of childhood happiness that just happens to appear at some important moment in the yearly cycle of Christian teaching. But now I am a believer all over again. (In bunnies, not religion.)

This year I returned from a trip to the coffee shop on Easter morning to find the above pictured "Lay an Egg" game waiting for me on my doorstep. What joy spread over me when I found the box sporting a life size image of a laying hen nestled into the clean straw bedding. What fun it was to open the box and find the plastic contraption that provides "fun for the whole family" by encouraging folks to gather around a table together slapping buttons that, if timed right, compel the cute red headed clucker to swivel its ass end over your own personal nest to lay an egg.

Now don't get me wrong. I still have my suspicions that there are mammals other than lagomorphs involved in this conspiracy of mirth. But I can't prove it. So until otherwise notified... count me as an Easter Bunny believer. Does anyone have a current email address for the tooth fairy?