For Rent: One Bedroom Birdhouse

August 2011

I love my local library. There is just so much information waiting to be taken home and loved, much like a puppy at the pet store just without all the bodily function surprises.

So! On such a trip while looking for info on gardening and patios, we ended up taking home a few books on building your own birdhouse. One was pretty straightforward, but the other was like Home For the Distinguishing Fowl. Some of them looked nicer than my house.

After an evening with David of planning ornate birdhouses, I did some actual research (I am finally learning - do all the research FIRST) and found out that hey, birds hate that. Here's the condensed skinny on getting a bird to actually live in something you make:

''Make it rough and look like a natural dwelling because bright colors aren't so good at hiding from predators that want to eat their babies, and birds won't live in it which kind of defeats the point''

So, sadness. We decided to dial down the birdy McMansion and make a birdy McHomeless shelter instead.

There is probably some lesson on humility and our materialistic society in here somewhere, but I am too busy picking out fabric for some new drapes to find it.

Step One:

Planning. Like, perhaps you should get the plans before you buy the wood, so your wife doesn't get all naggy and inform you that your wood is incorrectly sized and inferior.

I have a triangle, and I'm not afraid to use it

Step 2:

Go back to Home We Own Your Soul Depot for more wood

Step 3:

Cut things. Preferably not your own limbs.

Ba-zam! Conquering Fears, caught on film.

Step 4:

Put the pieces together to make sure they all fit

It looks like we tore up some floorboards to make this thing

Step 5:

Come up with Ghettofied Version, since the original plans are not working out because someone bought lumber that was too thick. Ahem.

Showing off the drainage holes and vents cut in the top side pieces

Step 6:

Re-cut select pieces

The one feature worthy of the McMansion house - David cut these ledges into the front of the board leading to the entrance to make it easier for the babies to crawl out on their own for the first time

Step 7:

Assemble. Buy a nail gun and just go crazy. That's what we did, anyway. And by we, I mean David because I am even more terrified of the nail gun than I am of the miter saw. Those things could misfire and shoot me in the eye, and then I would lurch blindly around the house, squeezing the trigger in agony AND THEN OH MY GOSH I SHOT MY DOG.

So.

I left it to David.

Gahh. The Internet has taught me to be frightened of many things

Step 7:

Get a bit of some kind for your drill that makes holes in wood and make an entrance in the door. Ours was 1 1/2 inches, which allow of many different types of birds. Be sure to check online or in a book to make sure what size your selected species of birds prefers.

In retrospect, the best place to do this was probably not the kitchen floor.
Sometimes we get excited and things have to happen IMMEDIATELY.
We have no time for this 'proper planning' drivel

Step 8:

Nail down anything that is loose. Or, if you are Lily, attempt to defend against the nail gun and compressor with vicious barking and physical attacks. I don't think she liked the noise. I was sure she was going to get herself a nail through the lip, or even worse, make David shoot himself in the leg/arm.

This was my job - making sure Lily did not become an accessory on the birdhouse

Step 9:

Be proud of self and show off to everyone.

TA -DA!

David removing the pins on the side that hold the door in place so he can show off the inside

Hi little birdy ladder!

Completed. The entrance is made double-thick as a deterrent to possible predators. I guess they see the deep hole and give up? Dunno, but any chance that I don't have to come out one day and see little dead baby birdies I will take.

Attack of the Cucumbers

August 2011

THEY JUST KEEP COMING.


Cucumber husbandry is pretty easy, once you get the vines going. In the beginning, our sad little plants were attacked first by hail (crushed) and then aphids. At first the seeds were carefully selected for being 'burpless' among other attributes, and carefully labelled in the garden.

Well.

That didn't last long. We had several casualties, which resulted in us driving to Lowes and grabbing plants more or less at random from the shelves to transplant. So now I have no idea what's what, which is unfortunate for next year's planning, bc its basically back to square one.



We are growing our stuff organically, which usually means nasty smelling things like fish emulsion and blood meal sometimes litter our patio. But more than anything, I sometimes have vicious daydreams of buying the most chemical-rich insecticide that I can and just nuking every thing in there.

Our cucumbers were being decimated by aphids. For some reason, the idea of a multitude of tiny insects targeting my plant an sucking the life out of it fills me with an unholy rage. In the spirit of organics, we decided to head over to Calloway's and pick up a container of ladybugs to take care of our little problem.

Now, the package says they have a special food/bedding that makes them want to stay on your plants and not fly away. To this, I would like to say: Ha ha, you cretin.

They hung around for a little over 24 hours, but after that it was sayonara.

After trying a multitude of organic pest control options - Neem Oil, Orange oil, biological control (ladybugs), as well as companion plants, we finally found one that works great - Spinosad. If you have a garden, go get you some. Immediately.

Ninja cucumber hiding in the grass

Anyway, that brings us to now, and cucumber husbandry and proliferation.

After watching our cucumbers make little babies that promptly would turn yellow and fall off, I hit the internet.

Apparently, all the butterfly/bee friendly plants I've spread around the yard aren't doing their jobs, because I found out that they were all dropping off because they weren't being pollinated. So, guess how I spend a few mornings a week?



If you said, 'You crawl around hand-pollinating each flower with a tiny paintbrush' then you have come to understand the level of insanity I have stooped to regarding this garden.



So, really, it's my own fault that I have approximately a million inedible cucumbers.

Yes, you heard me right. Inedible. So imagine our faces as we lovingly sliced our first cucumber - so juicy and crisp, still warm from the sun – at put it into our mouths.

And promptly lunged for the sink so we could spit it out.

Turns out, extreme heat is not so good for cucumbers. The plant becomes ‘stressed’ much like you or I during tax season, and decides to punish us by becoming horribly bitter.

It’s awful. Yet I can’t stop pollinating the things. It's a possibility that I might have issues. One of them is that we have several different breeds (is this the right word?) of vines, and every now and then, one of them produces a cucumber that is edible. So, I can’t throw them away, because WHAT IF!? But on the other hand, the only way to tell is to taste-test them, and it is unpleasant. 

I usually approach this problem by placing them in the crisper, letting them get wrinkly, and then putting them in the compost pile. You’d be surprised how fast truly fresh produce goes bad.

So, I couldn’t help myself when my mom came over one day and I explained my problem to her. So we steeled ourselves, opened my crisper, and began to weed out the nasty ones.

This consisted on slicing off a piece, and tentatively touching my tongue to it. I know in about five seconds if it is nasty, and somehow it spreads to my entire mouth, making it feel powdery and locking up my jaw. I can't really describe it. To my everlasting entertainment, mom couldn’t quite grasp this process, and instead insisted on chewing up each piece. I blame her old-lady taste buds, because she could never tell right away. She’d have a bite and say, “This is good!” To which I would continue to stare at her until the nauseated expression came over her face and she would spit out her pieces quickly, to the sound of my gales of laughter.

In the end, only 2 cucumbers out of this bunch proved edible. Although the hilarity was almost worth all the work.

Apparently there are types of cucumbers that are bred to be 'non-bitter'. You can bet I will be getting those next year.

Random Garden Shots

I was looking at my blog posts, and realized I never posted this one - Ah, back when things were green....


From Random Points in Time This Summer




Something is up with our carrots. I was mildly disturbed when I started trying to pull these up, but then I remembered that I had to transplant these since they were unable to germinate in our new soil, and it is really hard to get a root he size of a hair strand to replant board-straight. Thus, we got some crazy-looking carrots once those twisty roots started growing up and filling out.


Also, they are so hairy! Ugh.

I don't think I will be transplanting carrots every again. A lot of them were so twisty they snapped off in the dirt when I tried to pull them up.  Live and learn!


TOMATOES. I LOVE THEE.

I think that David thinks our tomato plants don't produce very well, but the truth is that they rarely make it inside the house. In fact, they rarely survive for longer than 5 seconds off the vine. It's usually after I've eaten a plant's worth, seeds dribbling down my chin, that I feel like a rabid dog who won't share, then there's the shame, and then I make myself take them inside to eat later. Or perhaps, go crazy and actually share them with people.

Eh, who am I kidding. Not my tomatoes!

Giant cucumber

I was beyond amazed when I came outside one day and noticed that this tiny plant (snap pea? I can't even remember) made a bean that was about as big as the whole plant. I'm glad we took this, because a few days later this plant was murdered by hail. Damn you, elements!

Actually, it was the death/mauling of most of our plants, as well as the non-stop rain that was rotting what had managed to stay alive, that made us install the supports you see below. When it's too rainy or cold, we plan on draping the plants with plastic to protect them. Once we actually start getting things we can actually eat, we are going to cover them with nets to protect against those thieving squirrels, those unappreciative jerks. They always take just one bite to assure you have to throw out all your hard work. Someone should teach them about environmental waste and upcycling.

Ok, deep breaths. Squirrels have been eating my tomatoes, and I might have some rage issues.


The garden with supports. The heat-loving stuff is really starting to grow. I think next year I'm going to do a weekly garden picture update. Could be fun.


Our tomato plants are about as tall as I am. It's crazy. As you can see, we are going to have to build a taller support cage to contain their awesomeness.