I'm not closing the inside door. I don't care that the screen door doesn't close all the way. That squirrel isn't going to scamper right in the door, even if he could squeeze through the crack. Sure, he's slammed against the window a couple times today and scrabbled along the wood frame as though trying to enter through the window, but that's just him being clumsy as he misses the roof or leaps off the nearby tree after lapping up the last bits of suet. I'm certain of it. Mostly.
I don't mind squirrels. They're not as cute and charming as chipmunks, but they're fun, rambunctious little guys. I didn't even mind that they started gunning for the suet. When I moved it to a much more accessible spot after using its original branch to hang the fuchsia plant, I expected some raiders.
But I'm learning something about the wild here. The word gets out about good grub and more creatures come. We've had several squirrels and chipmunks, with clear recollection of where the suet lies. The suet has been gone since this morning, but they keep coming back, licking and gnawing at the residue on the container. One baby squirrel with a slim red tail dared to venture close though he's the most skittish, and was recently chased off by a large gray squirrel who I initially took to be his parent. Perhaps not.
I'm beginning to wonder if they know that the suet came from us. It clearly wasn't hanging there in that odd little cage before we started showing up a month ago. If we put it out there, and we live inside, perhaps we keep more food inside as well.
OK, no joke, just this second, a large gray squirrel crept up from the other side of the house, curving around and across the front step, eyeing me as he passed by. I chased him off. I think another was on the roof in a different direction, trying to distract me at the time.
I'm going to get my knife. I can't believe I don't own a gun.
While we wish to repel certain creatures, we hope to attract others. In order to create a more inviting atmosphere for birds, we dug a small flower garden. The area was demarcated for us by a devoted yet not wholly considerate cable guy after he parked on our lawn on one of many wet days, then tore the grass up when trying to leave.
We transplanted found wildflowers from the edge of the road, then bought a few cheap ones, finding late season discounts, many for only 10 cents each. We also picked up a bag of wildflower seeds that seems to last forever, already planted in the graywater bins, and now in this patch. Though I might gripe about the near incessant rain (it's pouring again now, almost all day today), the seeds have sprouted after only a week. Of course, they'll soon drown without some sun.
The lady built the attractive rock border along the edge of the gravel driveway.
I'll admit I don't know much about spiders and how they operate. I know the classic image of spinning a web, waiting for a fly to get caught in it, then sneaking over to subdue the captive with poison for a later meal. I suppose this little guy started out the same way and just happened to snare a caterpillar. I can't help but wonder what the spider thought when he found it. Excitement. Perhaps a little trepidation. Imagine finding a whale in your rabbit trap, still alive. How would you feel?
This guy went to work, stabbing and spinning more web, wrangling the struggling caterpillar. I snapped photos, feeling mildly guilty, like watching a violent crime in progress, one that I could easily stop. Then again, the caterpillars eat my garden vegetables and form cocoons all over the side of the house. I might be on the spider's side.
Eventually I cut the caterpillar loose, letting him fall to the ground, leaving the spider confused and in retreat. I'm not sure if it was too late for the squirmy fella, as that was the limit of my participation.
Ron Howard hasn't made a movie yet that dares to explore a condition as threatening as Downdraft! Downdraft! is the unfortunate occurrence that occasionally happens with a composting toilet where the breeze blows down from the top of the vent stack, wafting across the lovely forested outdoor area with the needling scent of urine.
The jokers that make these toilets can't keep their documentation straight and range from telling you to be sure to get your vent pipe as high as the highest point on the roof to suggesting that it be 8 feet higher than that point. If you take a gander at the photo above, you'll see how our stack rises up past a relatively low point of the sloped roof, making the 8-foot extension I added to the original stack, ridiculously tall. All of that is bound to the edge of the roof with a couple of brackets, but should a strong wind get blowing, I fear it will snap, taking some as yet undetermined amount of roof with it. If you dig deeper in the assorted literature, you might find mention of using guidewires to support the vent piping, though I'm not sure how to effectively attach that to the pipe and surrounding trees.
Thankfully, the pipe itself is thin PVC and quite light, though that doesn't make it easy to find. The wizards at the toilet company figured they would use piping designed for central vacuum systems, the kind you might have heard about from the 50s, where the lady of the house (or the maid) can plug into the central system from any room with just a vacuum hose attachment. These pipes usually come in 8-foot lengths and ship for a load of money. Or you can call all over the region to track down a place that still stocks this stuff, which is what we did.
While they're at it, the toilet people charge a premium for their composting material, a simple mix of wood shavings and peat moss, again costly to ship and hard to find. But if you call around to wood mills, you might find them willing to give you all the planar shavings you can haul away for free, the buy the peat moss separately and mix. For about 6 bucks, you can have as much material as would cost you 50 bucks from the toilet people, thus avoiding throwing your money into the barrel (the new "flushing your money down the drain").
It's truly a lovely graywater system - bright green ferns, planter bins easing down the slope. But then I find a pinhole leak in the bottom of the first bin, a persistent little drip running down in the dirt and mulch (photo taken before dirt and mulch coverage).
The tubes are connected via caulk. Caulk while wonderfully waterproof, doesn't adhere when wet or to itself, so more caulk won't really help. PVC cement seems a good option though doesn't like water either. I can't really dry the spot given that it's now part of a working drainage system and the rain keeps coming.
So what then? I say bury it. I might give one more shot at something that adheres even to wet surfaces (let's call it magic caulk), finding a sunny string of days when I'm leaving town and won't be using the drains. More likely, I will pile more dirt and mulch on top. After all, it's already partly filtered (through one tub of soil, mulch and gravel) and going down a hill that already serves as the drainage for the nearby area.
Still, I wish for a perfect system, hanging my head in shame.
Do not be alarmed! He is very small. And while I rather like his fuzzy little wiggle and colorful markings, if he's going to eat the plants in my garden, he's toast.
After testing the soil, we found it low in both nitrogen and potassium, though decent when it came to phosphate. Very exciting. So I spread fertilizer around and tilled the soil a bit more with that lovable fork, pulling out a surprising number of hefty roots despite no nearby trees. What else roots? Or are the trees reaching that far across the lawn?
A couple days later, we planted. This was about the third week in June, too late to start from seed, so we purchased small plants from a variety of sources, preferring local greenhouses when possible, though with many herbs already gone by this point in the season, we made do anywhere that had our favorites.
Still being accustomed to overstuffed window boxes, I packed the garden by suggested standards, though still leaving room for growth and navigating through the rows without stomping on plants.
The selection includes: basil, Thai basil, Greek Oregano, thyme, sage, cilantro, Italian parsley, mint, rosemary, yellow squash, zucchini, yellow beans, eggplant, habaneros, jalapenos, hot Portuguese peppers, cayenne peppers, grape tomatoes, celebrity tomatoes, and leeks.
Given the ridiculous, near-constant rain of June, I was initially worried about the plants drowning. Quickly, slugs took over as primary concern. Buying a canister of Sluggo seems to have taken care of them. I still saw some leaf-eating going on, so purchased a spray bottle of something by Safer, a green conscious pesticide company. That stuff seems to work fairly well though it washes off with all the rain.
So far I can't figure out what eats my prized basil plants no matter how much poison I use. I worry for the pesto of this season. What's to be done?! Stay tuned!
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