Category Archives: Gardening

Ultrasounds, Lawn Mowers, and Lightning

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This morning Diane drove me to Good Sam hospital for an ultrasound. It was scheduled, not a spur-of-the-moment thing. Nope. I called yesterday and made the appointment all by myself. I did so as a result of my last doctor visit at which I was advised to do so. So, I did. The complaint I had, in case anyone missed it, was an ache in my lower left abdomen area that radiated to the right side occupant of my scrotum. That’s my right side, not yours. It’s been there since my angiogram so I wasn’t sure what was going on. I figured doc would make an effort to rule out a hernia first, and that’s what the ultrasound was all about.

Kit was the technician who did the ultrasound so it was a bit touchy at first. I talked to her a bit, reassuring her it would be all right if she waved her wand over my scrotum because I’d lost all my inhibitions years ago. She calmed down and went about her business in a professional manner. I have to admit that the application of the warmed jelly stuff to my scrotum was quite pleasant so I scheduled another appointment for next month. Just for fun.

From Portland, we took I-5 north to Longview, Washington so Diane could show me the nifty storage buildings she discovered a couple of days ago when she took Jennie to her orthopedist where she learned that the avulsion fraction of her right ankle isn’t a recent break. So, she didn’t get a cast like she was afraid would happen. The buildings she found are exactly what we had in mind, but different. I mentioned before that we were planning to embed a storage building for the lawn mower into one of the slopped areas on which many irises used to grow until I ripped them out of the ground. Instead, the buildings we looked at are all above ground and I learned we can build, or install a 10×20 foot building without a building permit. That’s a big building. Bigger than I had anticipated. But, having one of those for the mower and lawn tools would provide enough space to remove pretty much everything that’s laying on the floor in the basement. That’s a plus. I don’t really know why we’d do that, but knowing we could is an attractive feature. The buildings, by the way, are made in Oregon from lumber that was made from logs that were shipped to China six years ago. A lot of logs are shipped from here. Lots and lots of them. Zillions, I’m sure.

From the building lot, we went back home to let the dogs out. They like it when we do that. Then we sat for an hour or so, then went to the Scappoose Fred Meyer to get bark mulch for the flower beds. We discussed the wisdom of getting bags of it, or calling Beaver Bark and having a truck deliver a load. The delivery would have been cheaper, probably, but the bags were on sale. So, we got 20 of them. Half of them we left with Diane’s Mom, Jean. She’s been wanting some for her front flower beds. Tomorrow we plan to go down and spread it around for her.

When we returned home, I continued my work on a poster for American Legion Post 42 that advertises our AR-15 raffle. I also made up a list with 500 slots on which to capture the names of those who purchase tickets. In case anyone is interested, they are $10 each. First prize is the AR-15, second prize is $250 cash, and third prize is $100 cash. All profits made will benefit veterans in Columbia County. The drawing will be on Veteran’s day, 11/11/14, at 11:11 am at the Veteran’s Memorial in McCormick Park in St. Helens.

Then I mowed our entire yard in 1 hour and 20 minutes. All of it. But, I have mulching blades installed. It takes about 3 hours if I use the grass catcher thingies. Also, there wasn’t much to mow. It was more about cutting the tops off all the dandelions and other random weeds. But, it looks better, just the same.

Speaking of McCormick Park … the city has a popular frisbee golf course that is going to be one of the courses used in the National Frisbee Championship. I haven’t got any details, only that it, and probably the only at the Trojan Park will be used. Trojan Park is what’s left of the old Trojan Nuclear Power Plant where I used to work. It’s also the one at which Homer Simpson used to works. I thought I’d met pretty much everyone at the plant during my tenure, but never ran across Homer even one time. I was in the IT department so guess he didn’t use a computer. That would explain it. There were a few people who, in retrospect, quite possibly could have been Homer but that’s only based on short memory snippets of those I encountered who displayed questionable behavior. Nothing definitive.

Back at home, I joined Diane on the porch just after the sun went down and we watched the lightning strikes going on in Southern Washington. You may have heard about the huge wild-fire in progress east of Seattle that was caused by lightning. It was actually four fires caused by lightning that burned together and currently covers a 400 square mile area. Lots of homes have gone up in smoke due to the fire, and the lightening we witnessed this evening doesn’t bode well for the southern reaches.

Fires like this are not uncommon and there’s really not a lot anyone can do about preventing them. How could anyone stop lightning in the far reaches of a remote forest? Fires like this have been going on since the first trees started growing. Even with all the fires going on, pretty regularly as an annual event, I once heard that there is more standing forest now than when Lewis & Clark traversed this area. The reason is, of course, that we have equipment, and brave people, who find a way to contain current fires. Back then, they just burned until they went out. Makes sense.

A mosquito buzzed us, so we retreated to the house innards, and I’m seriously considering bed. So, g’nite all. Stay safe.

Oh! I almost forgot. I really didn’t make another appointment for an ultrasound. I was just kidding. I am, however, planning to experiment with some warm blackberry jelly and ziplock bags in an effort to find a way to go to sleep without meds and still keep the sheets clean. Diane won’t be happy about this, I’m sure, but it’s all in the name of research. I’m sure she’ll see the wisdom once she thinks about it a bit.

Digging in the dirt … again

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It was really nice and cool at 0500 this morning, perfect for dismantling weeds with minimal chance of heat stroke. Too bad I didn’t take advantage of that like I said I would. No, instead, I lounged on the couch, waiting for the coffee to finish. Since that didn’t happen until Diane attained a vertical orientation and went to work waiting on me as is her custom. She takes really good care of me and I appreciate it immensely. End result, the coffee wasn’t done until around 0830.

After chugging that first cup of coffee, followed quickly by a large glass of water, I donned my dry work clothes and headed outside to resume the battle for our back yard. We’re gaining because we’re using a flanking maneuver I read about in a comic book. You can’t beat the weed back by going at them in a lineal manner, like from left to right, because they will just fill in the gaps behind you as you progress. No, you must work from both sides as well as the top and bottom of your designated target area, moving back into previously weeded areas to pick up the stragglers. Conducting this war in dry weather is grueling because the weeds are so imbedded it’s like trying to rip apart a sidewalk to release them. They are much easier to pry from the soil right after it rains. It’s messier, for sure, but far mor easy.

Knowing this, logic says to water it all down before the assault but doing so adds considerably to the household deficit which is already in the trillions of dollars, as every knows. Still, it may be less expensive, in the long run, if I simply hook up one of my laser-guided sprinklers and douse the area for a short period of time, exchange my common work attire for a stealth swimming suit, and swoop in when they are least expecting me.

Sounds like a plan. For the moment, I’m recovering from this morning’s mission which left everything I’m wearing, soaking wet, a sure sign that I’ve exuded more than my allotted amount of perspiration for the morning. Rehydration is in progress. When my heart attains a more normal rhythm I will put on my cowboy hat and make one more dash into the war zone to retrieve the tools I left behind. I’m not worried about losing them because weeds do not have opposing thumbs. All they can do is surround things, making it difficult to extract. It’s sad, in a way, because you can almost hear little screams as their roots are pulled from the ground.

I know this battle will continue until I die because all those weeds need is just a teeny tiny little bit of root to remain in the ground in order for them to cover the landscape as soon as you turn your back. They love it, too, when it’s raining really hard, keeping us in side. It’s really annoying to look out and see them pointing and waving at us, sharing something humorous with their siblings, as we stand trapped inside, watching them grow just willy nilly all over the place.

The possible solution is a holistic weed killer Diane discovered that we’re going to try. Chemical warfare isn’t my normal choice for war but using holistic methods seems, to me, to be OK. It’s kind of a religious endeavor if it’s holistic. It’s made using 1 gallon of vinegar, 2 cups of Epsom salts, and 1/4 cup Dawn dish soap. Mix it all up, put it in a sprayer and share it with all your weeds. Their demise, I understand, is fairly quick and painless.

I’ll let you know if it works on black berry vines.

Now I must go perspire a little while longer.

Dump Run, Trees, Softball, & Dead Chicken

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The dump called my name this morning and I was compelled to comply. To do so required that I fire up the old truck, hoping that the John Deere syndrome had somehow magically disappeared during the night. It hadn’t, but the truck ran and I was determined to get it emptied. So, in order to avoid an additional $15 fee at the dump, I covered everything with a $20 tarp and headed down the road. I’m sure the engine is only running on 6 cylinders, at most, and it makes the whole rig kinda bounce down the road. But, we made it and I backed it safely into stall 4 as directed at the scales. At that point we all weighed in at 5800 pounds which temporarily confused me because I thought the C20 was only a 3/4 ton vehicle and here we were almost at 3 tons. It was temporary, like I said.

As is my habit, I toss things into the back of the truck with no consideration for what kind of items are added. I should consider it, however, because I can unload any kind of metal for nothing. So, logic kinda dictates that I put all the metal parts in one place, right? Well, that doesn’t work out well because it takes me a few months to get it full enough for a trip and there’s no way I’m going to remember where I tossed that last piece of metal. Just saying. So, everything just goes wherever it lands.

Consequently, at the dump, part of the process of emptying the truck is to separate the metal from the trash because the metal bin visit will be after the dump visit. That’s OK, and it worked OK. As I staggered around in the back of the truck, the people next to me were sure I was going to fall out, but I assured them I’d be fine and that, if I did fall, to not try any heroics, like catching me, because I’m insured. That eased the pressure on them and I didn’t make it worse by falling. I did good.

Our dump also allows us to dump old computers, computer accessories, and TVs for nothing, so I did that, too. I had two old printers, a scanner, and an old analog TV. Lots of stuff made its way out of the basement this morning.

Upon returning home, I went to work on the mound of trees that I dropped yesterday. I cut long pieces off the bottom, then tossed the remainder in the back of the truck for a trip to our burn pile out back. It was grueling work because today was in the 80’s, our hottest day of the year so far and I sweat profusely. Diane insisted that I wear sunscreen, like she always does, even though I told her it burned my eyes. “What,” she asked? “Why would you put it in your eyes?” So, I had to explain that I really don’t put it in my eyes, but when I sweat profusely, like I’m prone to do, it runs off my forehead into my eyes, and it burns. That’s the truth. It really does burn. But, I put it on anyway. If I go blind, it’s her fault.

I was able to get one truck load delivered to the burn pile, and half filled the truck with the next load before it was time to rinse and scrape my body in preparation for a ride in the Buick to Park Rose for another one of Lydia’s softball games. We took Jennie with us because she’s still a bit under the weather and really shouldn’t drive that far. It was an interesting trip because Jennie used her Mom’s phone to navigate with the Waze app. It’s pretty cute for commuters, and it’s really good about re-routing us around bad traffic. That makes sense because it’s made for commuters. We, however, use it for all our travels and it works wherever we go. Pretty nifty.

It was another good game and our girls won 9-2, or something like that. Lydia laid down a nice bunt and almost beat the throw to first, moving a runner around the bases, but the throw was high and she wound up on second base. She also had a nice hit to get on, and she was out on a called third strike, which really wasn’t a strike. But, as I said, they won.

After the game, and the teams paid their respects, the Park Rose team called our girls over and gave them all treats which they’d brought specifically for them. Apparently it’s an old tradition that they always do when St. Helens visits, and our team is the only one they do it for. That was pretty special. The reason given was that it was started because St. Helens was always a fun, respectful team to play against, so they just started bringing them treats. Now the pressure is on for when Park Rose visits St. Helens. It’s going to be epic.

On the way home we had to stop and feed Lydia because she needs to ingest something every couple of hours or she gets cranky. So, we stopped at the Village Inn, one of our favorites near the Lloyd Center. Lydia ate a huge chicken fried steak sandwich, Jennie had a traditional chicken fried steak dinner, and Diane and I shared a sandwich just like Lydia’s. For each meal we also got a piece of pie. Lydia ate her sandwich, Diane ate 1/3 of ours, Jennie ate about half her dinner, Lydia ate about half what was left, plus part of her pie, and I ate whatever was left over. When the our kids were growing up I always cleaned up the plates when we ate out because there was no way I was going to let them throw away perfectly good food.

When the meal was done, we made our way back to St. Helens, dropped Jennie and Lydia at their house, then came home just in time to watch the Blazers lose game 5 in Houston. So, now it’s 3-2 in favor of the Blazers and the next game is at home. The crowd is really going to be pumped up for them on Saturday. It will be supremely noisy.

The dogs were really happy to see us, as we were them.

Now I must slumber. Gotta finish removing remnants of the forest tomorrow and that’s going to be brutal because the temp is supposed to be near 90. I’m prepared to sweat some more, and I’m sure it’s going to make my eyes burn.

Wish me luck that I don’t contract heat stroke, or something.

Gardening, Mechanic-ing, and Lumberjacking

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Yesterday I was a mechanic and a landscape artist. The landscape part was fairly straight forward and didn’t provide anything new for me in the way of knowledge. It was simply a matter of removing most of the green growing things along the west side of our garage. There were challenges, however, because this form of artistry hasn’t been done in that location, to the degree I attained yesterday, since we took up residency. I took out pretty much everything except the group of flowers, the name of which I can’t remember, the baby’s breath, and the Andromeda bush. I have to admit that I did extract a great deal of Baby’s Breath before determining it wasn’t really a weed. During this process I discovered that Baby’s Breath erupts from the ground from one really long horizontal root. Really interesting. Most of the other stuff was just grass, dandelions, and interesting curly cue corms that produce a lot of roots, nice leaves and pretty flowers. The corms themselves look a little like flying saucers with tentacles. I saved all the ones I pulled up so Diane can plant them wherever she wants. The corms are the consistency of potatoes. Maybe we can eat them. Might have to try that.

Before playing gardener, I played mechanic and I learned two things that will come in handy in my future life, I’m sure. This knowledge was imparted while working on the ’73 Winnebago. The goal for that was to make it run so it could be moved out of the way of today’s lumberjack activities, the details of which will be forthcoming a little later.

The first thing I discovered, after installing batteries into the RV, was that the 12V system powering the domestic lights. There wasn’t, however, power to the 12V system that made the engine run. No ignition, no running lights, no headlights, tail lights, things like that. So, it became a troubleshooting evolution to determine why. After three trips under the rig, in the vicinity of the battery tray,  I emerged each time a little more wise about the way electricity works in a Winnebago, and that the position of the driver’s oversize rearview mirror doesn’t move, even when you bang your head into it. I discovered the mirror thing three times, on the exact same spot on the right side of my forehead. That’s how I discovered it doesn’t move. If it did, it would have hit in different spots each time, but it didn’t. It’s really sore.

On the second trip under the rig I discovered the value of a fusible link. That’s something  like a real fuse that blows up if it’s exposed to too much electricity. According to the wiring schematics, which I can actually read, there are two fusible links connected to the circuit very near the batteries. The one I found was destroyed, like blown to bits, and I immediately remembered a time last fall when I was attempting to connect newly recharged batteries. There was a little spark on connecting the second cable of the battery. It looked like success at the time, but but turns out the corroded cables I connected were both of the positive wires thereby making a direct short across the battery terminals. The fact that the battery didn’t implode was because the connectors were corroded. That was good news. I’m pretty sure this had a profound effect o there fusible link.

Not having a fusible link to replace the one that crumbled in my hands, I took two short 12 gauge wires from some wire I had in the basement. I twisted them together and installed them in place of the blown fusible link. This creative solution is temporary, of course, unless I forget. But, it worked. The old Winnebago cranked right up, smooth as a sewing machine.

After it warmed up, I put it in gear and pulled it out of its old home, and headed for its new spot across the street. It was exciting to learn the brakes worked because the last time I drove it, they didn’t, and I ran into the house. You may remember that from a previous post. Or not.

I got it parked, but not exactly where I wanted it because the old truck was in the way. I couldn’t move it because the battery died a couple of days ago, and when I put a recharged one in the started gear didn’t mesh well with the flywheel, and ground off the tops of a few teeth. This created a situation where I found it necessary to shim up the outer bolt on the starter in order to rotate the gears into closer proximity. Happily that was the solution and the truck started, then died. It was out of gas, this time, so I took care of that, and got it running. The fact that it sounds a bit like an old John Deere tractor isn’t a problem, yet. It runs, and I got it moved.

Then I ended the day doing the gardening mentioned above.

Today I found the electric chain saw, oiled it up, adjusted it, and went to work cutting down all the trees within reach of our green extension cord. That’s not true or I would have taken down the birch tree out front. I think it’s a birch. I just removed the 20 cedar trees between us and our west side neighbors. It looks a bit naked right now, but that will change once the fence goes up.

That’s a project for another day, after the new neighbors take up residency at the end of May.

Now I’m tired and Diane said I have to go to bed.

Girls High School Softball & Chicken

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This morning, taking advantage of a dry spell, we did some more gardening around the front of the house. It’s always easier to do after it’s been raining for a while. The weeds kind of just jump into your hands, like they’re afraid of dirt all the sudden. It’s a dirty adventure, but pleasing to get things looking nicer. Still lots to do, and there always till be. Cleaning up weeds around here is a little bit like painting a bridge. As soon as it gets done, it’s time to start over.

This afternoon we went to Hillsboro Stadium to watch Lydia’s team play their second league game. Their first one was last Tuesday, which they won 6-0. Today’s battle was a little more intense with the girls making mental errors, allowing the other team to score. In the end, our girls won 12-11 so it was pretty exciting. The other team was last up, bottom of the 7th, and managed to get two runners on base with only one out. The next batter hit right to our first baseman who caught it and tagged the runner trying to get back to the  bag. Game over.

Lydia did awesome. She was 4 for 4 on the night … two doubles and two singles. On defense she’s the left fielder and claims that it’s boring. I can understand why because, so far, no one has hit that direction. But, she’s ready.

So, the Lady Lions JV team is 2-0 in league play.

For Maryssa, if you see this … tonight’s game was played on the same field at Hillsboro Stadium where you played a game after demonstrating your massive talents to a vast array of college coaches. Nice facilities.

After the game we all trekked to Home Town Buffet for dinner. I ate 5 chicken legs, a series of popcorn shrimp, corn, potatoes & gravy, and a soup bowl bull of ice cream covered with hot fudge. So much for portion control.

It was a good day.