Sense of Adventure

I know that sounds like the beginning of a limerick. Sadly, that’s all there is and there ain’t no mo’.

It’s just that today I was reminded of the tool’s excellence by the simple fact of using it to begin expunging the weeds from my front yard. It’s just great for that. It’ll take the little bastards off level with the ground; sometimes it even hooks them and yanks ‘em out by the roots. Which is definitely bonus.

It’s about the only thing I know to get rid of the foul weeds locally called goatheads, shy of a flamethrower (which, granted, I so wish I had), or just grubbing the things out one by one by hand. Which, given the properties of our North Valley soil (the phrase “cement-like” springs to mind) would be a slow and brutal task. The monstrous things produce horrid miniature caltrops, which in fact greatly resemble a goat’s head, complete with horns - especially with horns - that endlessly torment my dog. And also me, when she tracks them inside and I walk around barefoot. As I prefer to do. The plants themselves sprawl on the hardpan as if defending against a Brazilian jiu-jitsu takedown, making it extremely hard to get at them. Unless you attack them right flat along the ground.

That’s what the scuffle hoe will do for you. New Mexico gardeners: buy it. Use it. Love it.

In other news from the terraforming of my yard, the compost I’ve got separated into its own container now, after a night’s airing-out, looks and smells and feels like nice, rich soil. Which I am given to understand is the point of the whole damned operation. Meanwhile the stuff in the composter, while it still smells a little evil, is generating heat again. I may need to turn it again in a couple days, although I confess it’ll be a spell before I’m willing to wrestle with screening it again.

Things progress. Likewise on the writing front, I’m pleased to report. I’ve slacked a bit on dictating, but that’ll come along as well.

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… I think.

As mentioned before, late this winter I decided to get serious about landscaping (among numerous other things.) I started researching inexpensive and easy composters. Despite some excellent advice from friends I wasn’t finding anything quite cheap and easy enough.

Then my friend Harriet Engle, who lives in a duplex next to my friend Roslee - both from the science-fiction club - revealed she was helping put a garden in their shared backyard. Since she seemed experienced I asked for her suggestions. She said she’d had success just getting a big old covered trash bin with wheels. Bingo! Thus was born what I call the Harriet Engle Rolling Composter.

(Before I went into any detail on this I asked Harriet if it was all right for me to use her full name. She allowed as she didn’t have any stalkers or outstanding warrants she was aware of, so it was.)

At Wally World I found just such trash bins, of 50-gallon capacity, for $25 each. Which definitely rang the cherries as far as “cheap” was concerned. Not too long thereafter I chanced to accompany my best friend Joe to Wal-Mart, as well as, more to the point, Joe’s pick-up truck. So I bought one of the bins and brought it home. I thought of buying a second - some systems recommend up to three separate composters - but decided I wanted to see how this one worked before expanding.

Harriet mentioned drilling holes in the bottom for drainage. I was initially concerned about compost dribbling out, but realized the quarter inch holes I intended to drill weren’t going to allow for much of that.

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