Making Do

My housemate went Krogering and locked me out. Hrm. Looking around, I'm OK as far as food goes. The garden has a few tomatoes, numerous peppers, chard, and a few young lettuce leaves. I have access to water, and also a soda I accidentally left on the porch.

It's getting cold. Housemate left a bathroom rug out to dry last week, so that could supplement my shorts and t-shirt. I also have a plastic tarp, and I could burrow down into the wood chip mulch for warmth. It's kind of fluffy, so I expect it would be insulating. Actually, I wonder how hot my compost pile is?

Really, though, the bigger issue is that I'm beginning to have to pee.

Just for Jerry. And birders.

Another Bubba post, but no pictures this time. (Ed: How's a video?)

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I just wrote this email to my lovely housemate:

This is kind of funny. I've been working in the yard all day, and came across some of the Bubster's poop in the backyard. It had all of these smooth things in it that kind of looked like roaches or beetles, only not moving.

I was stumped.

Until! I remembered that it's persimmon season. Out in the woods, persimmon trees grow wild--in the fall, they ripen up and fall off the trees. They're really really yummy and sweet, unless they're not ripe. If you bite into one too soon, they're....astringent would be the best word. They make your mouth pucker up and feel dry. It's not like your reaction to something sour. Hard to explain. If you know what alum is (I don't expect you do!), that's the exact sensation.

Anyway, Bubba's been eating persimmons. Check out this link and scroll down to see what's in his poop!

There's nothing wrong with him eating them in general, I don't think, but they may be what's been messing up his tummy.

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In other news, I went birding this morning and got a lifer! (I am not a "twitcher", for the record. And what a bizarre term!)

This is the first time this fall I've even seen any true migrants. Actually, it's the first time I've seen any warblers since I went to Michigan. I even had to pull out the Sibley's. That's been rare this year. For what it's worth, the lifer was a male Black-throated Green Warbler. The other cool ones were a female Black-throated Blue Warbler, and a couple of Black and White Warblers.

What a great day so far

I Know, I know.

Bubba's got the sneezies. He's not typically particularly cuddly, but right now he's being the cutest dog in the whole wide world. He's lying next to me on the couch, with his head on my foot. If I stop petting him, he nudges me. Makes it hard to type, but oh, my is it worth it!

I think he liked it when we played dressup yesterday. That's probably why he's loving on me today. Hot pink really favors him, don't you agree?

Yay to the Bubs.

Hrm

Wailing. From the general direction a neighborhood house. I can't tell if it's sex, torture or deep grief. I'd bet it's one of the second two. When my roommate comes out to listen, the noise stops. And then it begins again. It's intermittent, and I've never heard this sort of thing before here.

What would you do?

I called 911 about 5 minutes ago, after discussing with my housemate once again. Better safe than sorry, right? Cops are here, brb.

OK, I told the officer what was going on, and he's going to go check it out. Oh. Just got backup. I was going to go inside, but now I think I'm going to stay out here on the porch and live-blog this event. They're talking to a guy in the house I think the noise was coming from. I think they've gone inside, but it's hard to tell for sure. OK, now one of the inhabitants of the house is out on the front lawn talking to the cops. It's quiet, no fuss. I feel kind of bad for calling, but it looks like everything is OK. At least calm.

I wish I didn't feel bad about calling. I mean, either it's nothing or it's serious, right? And either way it should be the right thing to do, right?

The cops are leaving now, and there doesn't seem to be any fallout.

OK, cops came by to give me a heads up. Turns out the neighbor is in severe distress about a life situation and was just crying very loudly. Poor thing.

Cop's quote: "They're glad to have good neighbors."

I hope so.

Projects on my mind

I have a neat idea, and I'd like some technical support, please.

Psuedo Greenhouse.

There's a nice porch on my house that runs the entire width of the front (See Photo). We don't use much of it, and I'd love to section off maybe 1/4 of it, on the south side, and make it into a very very low-tech greenhouse. The south side of the house runs roughly parallel with the driveway. So what we're talking about here is the area from the garbage can over to halfway between the first two iron pillars from the right.

I'm thinking right now that I could just attach vinyl sheeting from the overhang to the floor alongside the south and west edges (using a staple gun, maybe?), and then put up a tension rod and a heavy duty shower curtain. If I use a tension rod and shower curtain method, it would allow easy access via the porch. I'm not sure if that description made sense.

My excellent tape measure has gone temporarily missing, though, and it's driving me bonkers. I can't measure! The depth of the porch is about 6 feet (72 inches, or approx 2 meters), and the height to the bottom of the overhang looks about 8 feet.

Here are the basic questions I have for you. Keep in mind that I rent.

1. How do I effectively deal with the wind? I don't want strong gusts to blow everything down. This would be more an issue with the south and west sides than the tension rod side. Something I just considered would be attaching hooks into the overhang and use shower curtains there, too. That way they'd detach easily, so that if we have high winds I can just take them down. The added bonus to this possibility would be that I could buy fabric shower curtains to put up in the heat of the summer, providing both shade and privacy from the street.
2. How could I anchor the sheeting on the bottom? I don't want the bottom to be flapping around, but neither do I want to increase the stability so much that the sheeting will act like a sail. (See above re: wind.)
   
3. What other issues am I not taking into consideration? I'm not much of a planner, and I do want to avoid having to re-do the entire project. For instance, when I laid out my raised beds, I overestimated the amount of sun they got. One of my next major projects may be moving them (ugh!) a ways down into the driveway, which is much sunnier.
   

In other news, Project Front Yard is coming along nicely. That big ole mound of woodchips you can see if the photo has been spread over an expanse of cardboard, which should be killing the Bermuda grass in an excellent way. The entire south side of the front yard is now mulched, and the north side has a pleasing curved bed. As soon as I get more cardboard, I plan to also kill/mulch along the south side of the house. There's some nasty tall grass that I can't seem to keep under control.

Oh, another question: What your opinion about Round Up? I have a section in the backyard that is extremely overrun with blackberries and invasive honeysuckle. There's a stump under it all, so I can't mow over it. Will the Round Up leach into the soil and kill other stuff, or is it a valid way to clear the area?

Whew. OK, thanks.

I do love the SNL commentary on the election...

Queen Latifah as Gwen Ifill is just genious. And I shouldn't have to mention that Tina Fey must be a national hero by now...

Poor Bubbabub.

Bubba is a rescue dog, and like most still has some demons. It makes me sad when I see them come out, and it even chokes me up, thinking of that past life Bubba had with some horrible person who treated him badly.

Does this happen to anyone else--a sad animal story gets you outright teary, but hearing about two kids locked in a 135 F car who later die just kind of makes you shake your head in disgust? I wonder if that's about outrage fatigue.* I feel guilty that I get more emotionally involved with pet abuse stories than people abuse stories.

Back to Bubba. His mom was out for the evening earlier this week, and I was Bubbasitting (in other words, I was home). Bub is so very very mild-mannered that he only occasionally barks. Only when he thinks something is at the door. Typically, he moves slowly, and doesn't make much of a fuss. Well, Bubster came over to me at one point that evening, and he was dancing around, jumping up in the air and pointing to the door. I thought he was going to bite my pants and drag me to the back door!

He bolted out the door to eat grass, barely letting me clip on the leash. Baby boy has had some tummy troubles recently, and when he needed to puke, by golly, he was going to be thoughtful enough to get a person to let him outside to do it, already! (He's done the same when he was sick with diarrhea a few weeks before this incident. Good Bubba.)

Seriously, how wonderful is that? Asking to be LET OUT to vomit. Good Bubba. Good Boy.

Here's the thing, though. Bubba's mom thinks that Bubba is getting into the trash at a friend's house. And that garbage gut is what's been causing his gastric distress.

Well, last night I caught Bubba in our trash. Trash that had contained raw chicken for over 24 hours. I caught Bubs in the act, and so I clapped loudly, sternly saying "Bubba NO!"

This is where I cried.

See, Bubba's reaction to my loud voice and the clap was to skitter away, cowering as though I was going to hit him. He didn't look just a little guilty. He hid. His tail was curled under, and he contorted his body so that the blows he thought where inevitable would land on his back, not his belly or flank.

Poor Bubba.

His flinch reflex is so strong that all it takes is me reaching up to adjust my hair for him have a similar reaction. Same thing happens with his mom. Poor sweet loveydo.

I made sure to lavish love on him as soon as I could after scolding him. I came out and paid him extra attention over the evening, even lying down on the floor to pet him. (The floor is hard.) Eventually we ended up both on the ground, sharing the same pillow with our heads, my arm around him. Sweet Bubba.

Of course Mom will always be preferred. Shortly after he cuddled with me, he jumped up on the couch with her.

Sweet Bubba, keep healing.


*Wow. The first time I heard the expression I immediately identified with the sentiment. I had no idea that The Onion coined or at least popularized the term.