Fall update

In which we forge ahead

Dear Everybody,

The last three months have been an interval of fits and starts, intense activity surrounded by stretches of frustrating idleness. Looking back, it would be easy to smooth it out into steady progress, but that’s not really how life goes a lot of the time.

First, I want to thank everyone who made it to the work parties I put on. We spent three days (yes, all three) pulling all of the stuff out of the 16x16 footprint of the Shippen and making a start on cleaning it. My cousin Hans did a hero’s work at the beginning, clearing a starting point in the chaos along with me and his father Conrad. I was pretty tired from all the prep I had done in the days leading up to the first work party, so I’m afraid that after helping Conrad cut away the brush and small trees covering the front door, I did a lot of resting and directing. But Hans made quite a dent (thank you!).

The second day Conrad came again and hauled the chicken cages out of the back corner shelter, where they had been taken over by blackberries; we kept picking away at the stuff inside until my friends Strawberry and Ming arrived in the afternoon. I had concluded by then that I couldn’t handle the clutter on a psychological level, but I could sit and direct people as they brought items out for me to examine, so with three people to fetch things out, it went surprisingly fast. I am very grateful to Strawberry for keeping things cheerful and moving forward, and I appreciated Ming’s steady pragmatism. Conrad, of course, has been a staunch supporter of all the projects I’ve done here, and no less so when the going gets dirty.

The third day, more of my cousins arrived. Manfred and Tatiana, Kirsten, and Solveig came with assorted children, and Conrad brought his toolbox to tackle the hayricks in the sheep pen (which need to be removed to replace the floor). The last items were finally taken off the walls and out of the corners to be heaped outside, and several people dedicated themselves to the filthy task of chipping away decades of accumulated animal bedding to find the plywood floor. Manfred and Tatiana cleared some space out of the blackberry brambles so I could work in the back, and I finally set one of the bottle jacks in place to prop up the roof of the overhang. I decided that, to continue the project, I would either need friends here for safety or some joist hangers to keep beams from slipping and falling on my head; I haven’t gotten either yet, but at least I know the jacks will work, and the overhang is currently stable.

The Shippen has been cleared, swept, and assessed. The verdict is that only portions of the floor will need to be replaced, namely in the sheep pen at the back, and the piece under the sink. That’s much better than having to cut out the whole floor, and even if I decide to put an additional layer of plywood over the top for stability, I’m looking at a lot less work than I had feared.

I have since shoved all the items in the “keep/donate” pile back inside the building to keep them dry and unmolested, but it’s still less crowded and much more orderly than it used to be. I’ll tackle those things next season, when I have time and physical space to put them where they need to go. And who knows, maybe next year’s work party will be aimed toward the demolition and repairs necessary to get the building back into shape.

I haven’t gotten to replacing the fences as I had hoped. I keep forgetting that, in addition to the extra work involved in clearing the ground once the grass and horsetail have grown up for the season, there is a distinct risk of hornets when breaking trail in the summer. I find myself reluctant to venture into the areas beyond the open yards and garden; my use of a scythe puts me at less risk of provoking them than using a weedwhacker or chainsaw, but the yellowjackets and the occasional patrolling bald-face hornet still make me uneasy. I don’t know where their nests are, and it’s all too easy to find them the hard way. I’m not allergic, but a sting can put me under the weather for a few days.

Only a day after the last newsletter went out, the lovely strawberries that I had been exercising such patience with, to allow them to ripen fully, fell prey to raccoons. The bandits figured out that they could lie full-length on the chickenwire top of the bed and reach through with their paws to grab the berries. Furious, I created side panels and erected them in a single day, which at least allowed me to take advantage of the second harvest several weeks later. But it wasn’t until I put up temporary fencing around the beds I’m using for the fall garden that I realized the local deer had been taking a bite out of my cilantro every time it walked past. I thought the seed had just been inexplicably bad… as soon as the bed was protected, I got vigorous sprouts, then the enthusiastic ferny flowers that I had wanted (I rarely make use of the leaves, but the flowers are fantastic for pollinators). So I definitely still want the fences. I had hoped to at least protect the grapes this year, and failed there too—the joke is on the bandits, though, because the huge Himrod grape on the south side of the house barely fruited at all this year. Something about the weather patterns; I’m not sure it even bloomed. By next year, I’ll be prepared.

My fall garden is going strong, with the broccoli growing like there’s no tomorrow, and I have a good crop of romaine. The parsnips are once again performing fabulously, interspersed with volunteer snapdragons. The summer garden was mostly successful; I don’t know what I’m doing wrong with the yard-long beans, but even though the cucumbers never got off the ground (literally) I managed to pull in enough small ones for many jars of crisp pickles, and a few Armenians for their cool sweet crunch. I haven’t harvested the potatoes yet, though the few I’ve pulled out so far were hefty. The garlic had a reasonably good year, and I discovered I can harvest broccoli in mid-August here if I plan ahead. And the zucchini did well, giving me five baseball bats full (I hope) of my own Kraken hybrid seeds, with a few small zukes for eating. If you want Kraken seeds, let me know—the variety is vigorous, meaty, and sweet enough to caramelize in a frying pan. I made the first cross by accident, and since then I’ve made them deliberately.

The William’s Pride apple outdid itself this year. I’m still hauling in the last of the crop, which tends to start dropping off the branches in mid-August. I was a little late erecting the shade-cloth apron I devised to keep the fruits from hurtling fifteen feet to smash themselves on the ground, but once I did, I was able to donate many buckets of crisp, perfect apples to the food banks. I’m told they’ve been quite popular. I won’t have so many Jonathans to donate this time, and the Golden Delicious has about four fruits slowly ripening; maybe it’s the same fluke that put the Himrod off balance this spring. Still, I should have enough apples to get myself through the winter, and that’s what I care about.

Jenny has been very involved in the community garden again this year, and as the plants started to mature, I realized that there was one aspect of its operation that no one had taken care of yet. I assessed the place in the beginning, and while I have offered occasional recommendations and support to Susan (who is in charge of the garden) I have generally been too busy to volunteer there. But since there are still not many renters who plant beds there, most of it is still “community” garden, with no one in particular claiming it. And the produce that comes out of those beds should, in theory, go to the community. How to get it to people who can use it?

I spent a couple of days driving to the local food banks and talking to people, and set up a schedule for donating harvests to whichever entity was open and distributing on any given day of the week. Then I committed to driving down to the garden to harvest twice each week, and take the proceeds to the food bank. I’ve worked in the UC Davis organic garden CSA, I’ve harvested the Master Gardeners’ demo garden at times, and I’ve grown my own produce for years; I know how to determine when vegetables are at their peak, and I’m good at finding zucchini, beans, and cucumbers that “hide” in the foliage. So I decided that would be my contribution, and it has given me a very deep satisfaction to know that I’m directly responsible for helping people who can’t always afford to buy enough food.

Not all of my endeavors have been so successful. On one memorable day in July, I woke up, cleaned my glasses, and realized the frames were broken. I sighed, grabbed the glue, and put my glasses aside for the several hours necessary for it to set. What could I do without glasses, or using my abominable backup pair? Moving large items seemed the best option, as I don’t need to see clearly to shift boxes or bags around. I moved the car out of the Bug Bay (aka the carport), and discovered in the process that one of the tires was completely flat. Well, at least I wasn’t driving anywhere with no glasses on. Determined to make something good out of a bad day, I started pulling the junk out of the back of the Bug Bay so I could load up the truck for a dump run.

Remember what I said about hornet nests? Turns out yellowjackets like a rotten old cardboard box to nest in just as much as a crack in the ground. And yes, I found it the hard way.

I gave up at that point, got myself some ice cream and played phone games for the rest of the day, hoping the roof wouldn’t fall in. But the box of wasps was a problem. It’s continued to be a problem, despite every plan I have executed to get rid of it. And there are no pest control places I’ve found which could deal with it for me without using chemicals I wouldn’t want that close to the house. It’s currently inside my medium-size cooler, which they managed to lift the lid on even though I slammed it closed on the infested box. I have hosed them down with diatomaceous earth, along with the other nest (yeah) occupying a rolled-up rug in the workroom rafters. No luck. I do finally have a proper beekeeper’s veil, and I’ll likely make my next move on one of these cool nights when they’re sluggish and sleepy. But, like the nest I found three days ago foaming out between the shingles above where the power line attaches to the house (yeeeah) I may just have to wait until freezing weather sets in to remove these nests and ensure they don’t survive into next year.

Eventually I’ll get my cooler back.

The citywide garage sale came and went, with the same kind of surprises I’ve come to expect. I got a few knickknacks, a couple of useful tools, that kind of thing. I found a 1942 Dunlop wood lathe on a stand; it had a balky motor, but I told the owner to keep the motor as I want to run it on a treadle anyway. It’s sitting in the garage waiting for me to clear space in the workroom, but it’s compact enough that shouldn’t be a problem. I also found four executive office chairs in shabby but intact condition, $5 each, and snatched them all. Two need new gas cylinders, but that’s easy to do, and they’re quite comfortable. Jenny wanted one for her typewriter desk, and I’m sitting on one while I write this newsletter. Not a bad haul.

I got Jenny’s essential papers sorted, at least roughly, in time to take her to an appointment with a lawyer to get her estate in order. It was quite productive, and we’re waiting for the papers to come back to sign. I still have a bunch of organizing to do to pare down and document what’s in the filing box, but soon she’ll have the important stuff like a power of attorney document and an updated will. It was nice to be able to hand something like that over to a competent professional.

I managed to get both cats in for their checkups. No small feat, as it’s pretty easy to surprise Cricket once, but when she needed to go back for a booster a month later she seemed able to read my mind. Still, at least she doesn’t mind car rides in the carrier after the initial indignity of being stuffed into it (I prop her up on a box so she can see out the windshield) and she likes the vet. Artie, on the other hand, has claustrophobia, anxiety, and trust issues. His first trip in a carrier was last fall when I had to take him in for an abscess, and I don’t think he’ll ever feel comfortable in one. I had to spend ten minutes calming him down enough that he didn’t hurt himself before we set off, and he was both terrified and angry the whole way. An hour later he was settled to the point that he only uttered a few worried comments during the exam, and he didn’t struggle, despite (I quote the vet) his heart “going a million miles an hour”. He was supposed to go back for a booster too, but I’m not going to do that to him. Once a year is enough, even though he came through it better than I feared. He forgave me by evening, and crashed on the bed next to me, worn out.

The summer was warm but not blazing, and dry, but without the electric tension of fire weather. I asked Jevon to send someone over to cut down the thicket of willows behind the Shippen in advance of dredging the pond, and he said he’d fit me in at the end of August or so. Then the last half of August came, and before the month was truly gone we had rain, and rain again, and the temperatures dropped as grey skies moved in. We had shifted straight into mid-fall with no warning, three or four weeks early. I finally caught Jevon again and he admitted that the shift in the weather had put him behind schedule; it looks like we’ll have to wait until next summer to do dredging and grading. It’s not a disaster, just a setback. Like the fences, it’ll still be there next year.

This extended fall has been lovely, though, with cool nights and lower humidity than the mugginess that plagued us in July and August. Cricket loves fall, with bright days where the sun is warm but not hot enough to cook a black kitty, mild breezes during long afternoons, grasshoppers and butterflies everywhere, and excellent hunting. At night it’s cool enough to join me under the blankets for a good snuggle before dawn. She’s been deeply content. Artie has been as cheerful as usual, and seemed rather smug about catching a full-grown hare.

I nailed down the new floor in the office, and it looks incredible. I love tempered Masonite as a floor covering: smooth, warm, easy to install, and not very expensive. I’ll be painting it, but just a regular dark brown for scuffs and water resistance. I went on to cut holes in the walls for the new outlets, and created spaces to run the wires behind the baseboards; I trimmed the metal channel I’m using for protection against nails, and carefully fit it in as I ran lengths of modern Romex to each outlet hole. Installing the outlets themselves was a two-day affair, as manipulating the wires sprained my hand slightly, but I got all eight done. Finally, I called a couple of electricians to get quotes for a new electrical panel, which I need before running a line to the office circuit. Much to my surprise, the first one looked at my installation in the office and nodded, saying that running wires behind the baseboards was a common retrofit in old houses around here. I suddenly feel a lot better about my “creative solution”.

The second electrician is coming this week to write up a quote, then we’ll see how things shake out. It’s a major step forward in modernizing the house, and upgrading the panel will go a long way toward making the whole system safer. Meanwhile, I just need to scrub the ceiling trim in the office, cut drywall to fit the alcove (it was bare studs before, I see no reason not to sacrifice three inches for a proper wall there), and mud any remaining cracks, and then I’m set to paint. I think I can squeeze that in before the north part of the house gets too cold to dry paint easily. The closet hasn’t been addressed yet, and its door fits poorly, so I need to figure out what to do about that. But once the trim has been installed in the main room, I can move furniture, my craft supplies, and my computer down there, removing multiple logjams which have stood in the way of progress in other places. I’ll be able to bring the dining room table into the house, for example, and I can clear out more of the workroom. But winter may set in before I can go much further.

I managed to get hit by three solvent exposures in a little over a month; one was my own stupid fault, being so thrilled over the garage-sale chairs that I took one into the house right away, but the others were from my mechanic and the vet, which were not so easy to avoid. A single whiff of that particular compound can make me sick for weeks, so I spent a large chunk of the last three months either unable to function or working through exhaustion and brain fog. It’s just now clearing up, in time to catch the last few days of fair weather before the fall rain sets in. I’m glad to be feeling more myself, and I’ve been wasting no time. On Friday I scraped the old paint and replaced the glazing on five of the twelve ground-floor windows on the house; the picture window has no glazing, so that leaves six windows to prep and six to paint. We’ll have some more sunny days this week to hopefully take care of that, along with repairing the broken pane on the Annex. I’m expecting a firewood delivery tomorrow, to head off yet another panicked December call to the place that has rescued me twice, and I’ll be stacking that in various dry storage areas. I cleared the gutters, and I want to do year-end maintenance on the water box. That will let me drain the water heater to clear the silt, which is past time.

I’m in reasonable shape for winter, I think, to have at least as much comfort as I did last year. I’m starting to know what to expect as the days get shorter. Things will slow down a bit, and I’ll have to be patient again. I’m satisfied with what I’ve accomplished this summer, though, and it puts me on better footing for next year.

The next newsletter will come out in late December, at the winter solstice; I’ll wrap up the loose ends for you, and talk about what I’m looking forward to. In the meantime, calendar pre-orders will be coming along in a month or less, so keep an eye out for that. I’ve had very good feedback from people who have gotten calendars in the past, and I have some great photos this year. Buying one helps me afford to give family and friends gifts for Christmas, which I deeply appreciate. If you aren’t into wall calendars, consider leaving a tip at my ko-fi page. Or if that’s not in the cards, you can enjoy the photo album for free. And remember, if you came in recently and you’re a little lost, you can read all the posts from the beginning in the archive.

Have a safe and satisfying few months, and I’ll see you in December.

—Sam