Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Monday, June 27, 2011
June 9, 2011 First journal entry out at the Gratiot House
Yesterday was a tropicalismo- huge thunderstorm in the morning whipped up another balmy and hot ninety degree day. Peach* was restless with the heat and didn't care to nap much at all. I toiled with the dishwashing arrangements in the wet clay arranging an old railway tie on a pallet while Jason installed our tongue and groove flooring above the kitchen- wrestling with the imperfections of do it yourself planing and the natural grace and imperfections of an 1835 stone structure. I assured him the gaps in the floor that stung his brain and ideals of fine craftsmanship were just character in our book- that's why we bought the place to begin with. Not for perfection- far from it.
Weeding my 50' by 100' garden has surpassed the expectations of the common weed tools. Today with relief from the heat, I hacked away with the sharp edge of the hoe and hand pulled mountains of quack from the borders of the veg beds and intruders rearing the plants themselves. A local farmer dropped off a dozen bales of straw today. I have hopes of golden mulched, weed free pathways yet amongst the beds. The veggies are looking fabulous I have to say. Despite the rambonxious weed growth typical of a virgin garden.
It's going to be cold and clammy in the tent tonight. No fan necessary. The wind is once again blowing like a banshee. Daisy* looks around with consterning eye from the parlor room sofa. Still not quite sure what to think of the new habitat. Duncan fingers his toy piano and squirms around on his belly dreaming of big person mobility one day.
Bat shit falls from the eves and like snowflakes, no two droppings are alike. Swelling gnat bits loose their vigor under a steel grey sky. The swimming pool still encased in its cardboard tomb from China can wait another day, lying on the cool wet earth. The cursed squashing heat is missed in less than twenty four hours as night nears- cold and wet and dark night.
I step out the front door and grab a shovel from the ditch for the power line. Along the backside of the garage I hack down three foot nettle and thorny brambles to dig a hole for my shit. Somehow, it felt like a good place to squat and bury.
*Peach aka Duncan aka our son now 7 months old
*Daisy is our dog
Weeding my 50' by 100' garden has surpassed the expectations of the common weed tools. Today with relief from the heat, I hacked away with the sharp edge of the hoe and hand pulled mountains of quack from the borders of the veg beds and intruders rearing the plants themselves. A local farmer dropped off a dozen bales of straw today. I have hopes of golden mulched, weed free pathways yet amongst the beds. The veggies are looking fabulous I have to say. Despite the rambonxious weed growth typical of a virgin garden.
It's going to be cold and clammy in the tent tonight. No fan necessary. The wind is once again blowing like a banshee. Daisy* looks around with consterning eye from the parlor room sofa. Still not quite sure what to think of the new habitat. Duncan fingers his toy piano and squirms around on his belly dreaming of big person mobility one day.
Bat shit falls from the eves and like snowflakes, no two droppings are alike. Swelling gnat bits loose their vigor under a steel grey sky. The swimming pool still encased in its cardboard tomb from China can wait another day, lying on the cool wet earth. The cursed squashing heat is missed in less than twenty four hours as night nears- cold and wet and dark night.
I step out the front door and grab a shovel from the ditch for the power line. Along the backside of the garage I hack down three foot nettle and thorny brambles to dig a hole for my shit. Somehow, it felt like a good place to squat and bury.
*Peach aka Duncan aka our son now 7 months old
*Daisy is our dog
DIY lentils, floor boards and camp livin
Chris and Mike plane and create tongue and groove in the wood from the Amish mill.
Home s
weet home for the summer!
Solar
sh
ower..ooh la la!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)