Water World

Well, that was interesting! Do you like riddles?

How are the phenomena of a slow well and a flooded studio connected? By something the size of a grain of sand, perhaps. I'll try to be brief (she says, "try"):

In the last week, or so, we've experienced a lack of water in the evening three different times. It always returns (refilling the storage tank to usable level) sometime during the night. Given that the tank holds 2500 gallons and that we thought it was near full most of the time, we decided to have a well-expert come to help figure out why we kept running out. Also, we knew very little about that water thing in under the garage and that other water thing in the studio and how it's all connected We figured it was high time for some tutoring on water systems.

On Wednesday, Nice-Guy Mike stepped us through our particular system, all the parts of which seems to be in good working order, with the exception that the well pump, itself, looks to be slowing down and will need replacing sometime in the future.

Meanwhile, this time of year, we have four outdoor watering systems working, three of which are on drip. The fourth is our little lawn in back which is on standard sprinkler. It's been consistently in the high 80's, lately, so, even though the lawn is slated for destruction, we thought we'd keep it green til we had time to dig it up. Thinking about it, we would run out of water on the evenings of lawn watering. Hm. Given that the well pump has slowed down, the lawn has been using so much water that it draws the water level in the tank down faster than it can replenish.

Next morning, Thursday (yesterday), about 6:15, just as I was leaving for my morning walk, I noticed a small puddle on the tile in front of the upstairs bathroom near the kitchen. Odd. As I walked, I could not figure out an explanation. Ate breakfast, read paper, then ambled downstairs to turn on my computer about 8:30, and walked into a studio that looked as though a little rain storm had passed through. About half the floor, cabinets, tables, etc. were soaked. On the ceiling, the only sign that anything might be amiss was that the drywall tape in one small place looked a little loose.

Suddenly, the adrenalin kicked in and I ran for the towels, sounding the alarm for Tom, and we mopped up best we could. It seems like one of those little miracles, now, but the computer was in a dry area, as were my paper and books. My recent artwork was safe under the cabinets, but the rain came to within inches. My new camera got wet, but it seems OK. The cork floor also seems to have endured several hours of standing water and is no worse for it. Most of the drawers on one side of the room had water in them (one had about 1/2"), but most of the supplies were salvageable. Very little lost, thankfully.

Very Nice Guy (and owner of a large plumbing business), Mark, had some guesses based on lots of experience. He came over and started with a square-inch hole in the ceiling through which to push his very cool little camera probe (!) and saw lots of water, but, because of the insulation, wasn't able to see far enough (that's Mark a little later with the flashlight). The hole grew over the next two hours to about 6 or 7 sq.ft. or more.

He found no leaky pipes anywhere, even under regular house pressure.

When he inspected the bathroom above for the umpteenth time, he found a little bit of dampness in the floor vent and under the waste basket, which meant that there had been an overflow of some kind. So, here's the theory: When the water tank outside refilled to it's critical minimum sometime during Wednesday night, the house pump (not the well pump) started up automatically and water refilled the pipes (like it's supposed to). Somewhere in the system,there must have been some tiny, grain-of-sand-sized piece of who-knows-what that got caught in the flush mechanism of the urinal, somehow starting a flush that continued for who-knows-how-long that the drain could not handle. I know. The flush started by itself? So, the bathroom floor had flooded and the water had seeped through the grout, through the subfloor, insulation and drywall below and into the studio, spreading far and wide as it went. All that was left upstairs by 6:15 was a small puddle in the hallway.

Then, again, *somehow*, the little fleck of unknown-something must have finally been washed loose and the urinal stopped it's continuous flush. Mark-the-Plumber called it a "perfect storm". He'd never seen such a situation. No plumbing repair was needed.

I still don't quite understand it. But in the absence of a better explanation, we have to go with it. Tom and I spent the rest of the afternoon cutting the hole much bigger (about 8' square) to get rid of the not-so-drywall and soaked insulation and ceiling fixture. We'll leave it awhile to air out, then try to fix it ourselves in a week or so.

So, here I tap away, able, now, to keep a direct eye on the perfectly-performing bathroom plumbing upstairs, just in case something decides to throw another tantrum of some sort. I'm hoping it's over it, whatever it was.

Stay tuned for adventures in ceiling repair...

The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out...

Ha! You KNEW (and were, undoubtedly, fervently hoping) there would be more about worms soon-- my wonderful Red Wigglers (as distinct from an earthworms, AKA night crawlers)!

Here's the coolest thing: My failed compost heap (caused by consistent laziness), has yielded quite the bonanza of interest in worm culture and the resulting Brown Gold of worm castings! How often does laziness pay off so well (or at all)?!! Not so often, take it from me.

So at the fair, I went to a little demo about to learn more about worm-keeping just after I finished making my worm bins from inexpensive blue plastic tubs from Target. One sees stackable worm farms everywhere up here for $99, but this cost us just $20. Basically, the tubs are magically transformed into fabulous worm condos by drilling lots of holes and adding shredded damp newspaper. You can see ours here, below, in the mud room where they will live year round.

The only thing left to do was to get the worms out of the uncompost pile and into the bins. Let's just say that the worms don't seem any too excited about the Big Move. Typical little worm brains: The status quo is always best. They are making me dig for them, one by one, so that I can lay them gently into their new two-story, which comes complete with their favorite food, cantaloupe rind. I'm pretty sure they'll be so happy there, but I wish they could tell their little friends.

However, in the process of the worm hunt, I'm finding that nearly the entire compost heap (which is bigger than it looks in the photo) is already mostly worm castings (that's some of it in the white bucket--yeah, I know. Looks like ordinary dirt)! A bag of worm castings, the best fertilizer there is, goes for $20/1cu.ft.! I'm not sure how much we have already, but maybe three or four cu.ft. I'll know in a couple of days. Cool, huh?

It's going to take me all week (a couple of hours a day) to separate the worms from their castings, which is so worth it. After that, I'll start a true compost heap in that spot (provided I can conquer that pesky little laziness problem), which turns a much greater volume of garbage and clippings into great soil much faster. It's just not quite as rich as having passed through the digestive system of a little red wiggler. Clearly.

Once I have them all in the bins, I'll need to feed them fruit/veggie scraps and keep the newspaper damp. Some vermiculturists only feed about once every two weeks and it's possible to leave them a month at a time, if necessary. And they're fairly quiet little creatures. So far.

It occurs to me that I haven't included any pix of the actual worms...as far as you're concerned, they could be imaginary. Well, Tom has seen them (you trust him, don't you?), though he doesn't seem to share quite the enthusiasm, yet. However, when they are settled and happy in their new house, I'll find a bunch and snap some candids (they're shy) for you. I'm sure you'll love them, too.

Fair Junkie Journal

We love the fair. I love every part of it. Tom has a few favorite areas. Therefore, in San Diego, for the most excellent Del Mar Fair, most years, we would attend one afternoon/evening together, typically, then I would try to go another day by myself in order to indulge my own interests at my own pace (which is glacial, to be sure). That fair typically runs 17 days, or so, which makes sense, for a county of about 3 million.

This is the third year that we've had the opportunity to attend the Nevada County Fair, and time spent there is increasing each year. I would like to be there every minute of the five whole days that it's open, actually. It started Wednesday, and I spent nearly two entire days thoroughly enjoying myself! Given my druthers, I'd have headed back over there this morning, again, but decided that--well, really.

Here's a sample, though, of how much great stuff I was able to cram into a couple of days:

I LOVE the animals! I saw close-up and sometimes even touched: alpacas (always TOO cute!!), gigantic white shire horses (pic), saw one set of the Budweiser Clydesdales (one getting a new shoe in photo), bats, an owl, a peregrine falcon (fastest animal on the planet--240mph), red-tailed hawk (photo), bees, and every kind of farm animal, plain and fancy, there is.

I love the exhibits, the stuff people make: Art (my entry in professional calligraphy got a blue ribbon--of course, it was the only entry. Still.), crafts--love the quilts/fabric art and yarn creations--don't know that I'm inclined to take up spinning or weaving any time soon, though, which are so big up here. My baskets came in third, this year (gotta step it up next time!), kitchen crafts, including World's Ugliest Cake Contest (the litterbox cake is always a winner in my book), woodturning (which is something I'd like to try), etc.

I love the class/demos in the gardening and natural-environment subjects. This is an activity that is not so practical for a fair the size of San Diego's, but it's perfect here. This year, I sat on one or the other of two sets of straw bales for hours on end over two days (each class is 50 minutes, or so) learning all about (in separate lectures/demos): local wild birds (with another session on feed and houses for said birds), bats, living with wildlife (where I got very close to the owl, hawk and falcon), composting, vermiculture (I've already made my bins!), permaculture/rain catchment (amazing!), water wells, and septic systems (complete with a free roll of septic-safe toilet paper, the kind we already use). The middle of the days were so booked that I just stayed put and munched my sack lunches while waiting for the next class to begin. I met a master gardener who lives nearby and we're going to go walking together soon.

I saw gorgeous plants and produce--very inspiring. And found out that there's a tomato-tasting event coming up in a month where we can go and taste about thirty kinds of tomatoes to find out which ones we want to grow ourselves. I'm so there.

I went into the model-railroad exhibit (permanent fixture of the fairgrounds), and discovered a fellow tenor from choir in there running trains. There's a big vintage farm-engine exhibit that always sputters with a certain crazy rhythm at one end of the fairgrounds. And the blacksmith. Of course, every organization has its own canopy and it's a good place to get that kind of information. The Aikido Ka folks ("peaceful warriors") seem a little aggressive to me. Didn't ever see too many people at the Idaho-Maryland Mine Company booth. Just as well. They want to open a huge old mine again for production. Not my favorite plan. Go away.

In San Diego, one of our favorite activities was to walk through the three cavernous commercial buildings, full of all sorts of products and their hawkers. Of course, we own many (!) of those products now (and use them! My Bamix just gave out after about 30 years--sniff). The size of the population doesn't attract too many of those folks here, alas. Still, there's one building full of them and a whole bunch of other interesting stuff being sold under canopies all over the grounds. Some emphasis on tie-dye and home-made jewelry.

And, of course, there are the carnival rides. They cram an amazing number of them amongst the trees!

The music! There are bands and other musical performances all day long on three different stages. Two of our faves this year were Solid Air, a rockabilly-sort of a band, and Code Blue, a little more rock than billy. All excellent. Plus lots we didn't hear. I love Taiko drumming and there's a local group that performs every year. Here's a picture. I sat through two identical performances in a row. The rhythms and the choreography are hypnotic! I'd think about joining, but their practices conflict with choir.

A few contests probably not seen in San Diego: Salt Lick Art (shapes of a salt lick made by animals licking it), tallest weed (woolly mullein wins every year-duh), carrotmobile races. Maybe they were there, but we didn't see 'em.

I didn't mention the food, a fair Hot Topic. It's pretty basic, as far as fair food goes. So we have to wait for the State Fair in Sacramento to get the deep-fried twinkies or White Castle burgers. No worries. Shouldn't do that stuff more than once a year, anyway.

So, it's only Friday. Hmm. Got a few hours this evening and a couple more whole days left...

Veggie Chronicles

I suspect you haven't asked about the garden, lately, because, well, you don't want to embarrass us. You remember last year. So thoughtful of you.

But, no worries! This year, different story! Of course, weve had a few issues, like irrigation (outdoor electrical system went kaput), and weather (let the seedlings freeze, inadvertently, and had to start over), so we're a few weeks behind where we'd like to be by now, but, All Things Considered (playing on the radio in the background at the moment), we're quite happy with our little veggie patch.

Some seedlings just didn't get going because it was too warm by the time they got into the dirt. That would be the peas and lettuce, mainly. I'll be trying again with those next month. A few just never got comfortable, for some reason, and are still only a few inches high--peppers and eggplants would fall into that category. It would be a true garden miracle if we see actual peppers and eggplants before it snows.

The rest, however, are looking pretty good, we think. Leading the charge, as expected, is the one zucchini I planted. Naturally, it's my least-favorite veggie in the beds (ergo, only one plant). I've already been cooking zucchini (tonight, roasted) and, even with only one plant, it may be too much. Most of it will become sweet bread, I'm pretty sure. Here's a photo of one, posing with some quills and bamboo pens for interest.

I don't even know how many tomato plants we have, but there are 12 varieties, including several heirlooms and minis. The plants are beautiful, but, so far, there is a dearth of actual tomatoes growing. It's possible we're lacking a bit of calcium/phosphate in the soil (nitrogen, no problem!). The corn looks good and the watermelons, cukes and and cantaloupes are very leafy and appear to be healthy. Still. Not too much getting ready to pick, yet. Same with the broccoli. The leaves are huge! Oh, the swiss chard is gorgeous--see the colored stems? It's called "bright lights" and grows yellow, orange, pink and red!. We are seeing some green beans on the vines and the sunflowers are just budding!

Elsewhere, all the berries, fruit trees and sweet grass are looking happy! Next year, for the berries and perhaps a year after that for the cherries and apples.

Up on the deck near the kitchen door, of course, are the herbs. There are a couple of empty pots because the dill and cilantro flamed out early, but we have two kinds of mint, two kinds of oregano, two kinds of chives and two kinds of thyme. Then, there's lavender, marjoram, sage, and, of course, three pots of basil. Unlike zucchini, one can never have enough basil. Seriously, right?

You've probably figured out by now that I haven't yet started my indoor worm farm. Maybe this next week. Just need to get some bins and haven't gotten to it so far. You'll know.

But, see? Given a few little pitfalls, we've got a bit of a garden going, now, and I hope it will be a continuously-active part of the landscape as we learn how it works with the seasonal changes up here. Garlic and onions, for example should be planted in the fall for spring harvest. Should be fun!

Meanwhile a tomato or two would be nice...

Art Watch

Time goes by. I make stuff. I forget to put it up on the blog. Here's a little catch-up:

Our neighbors had a baby girl, Olivia, last August. Due to some post-partum problems (MRSA staph infection for mom, minor facial birth defect for baby), during which time the baby was mostly with the paternal grandparents nearby, we didn't get to meet her until last April, just before Olivia's first corrective surgery. So, I made her this little puzzle for her just after she came over for a visit. After the surgery (which went well, according to Mark, the dad), Jennifer, the mom, took her to Wisconsin to spend time with the other grandparents. And she hasn't come back yet. So, it sits on my studio counter for the time being. Olivia's middle name is Daisy. Each letter and the flower are separate interlocking pieces.

A few years ago, I'm embarrassed to admit, I promised Dylan that I'd make him a nice set of bedding for the beautiful new bed he had just made for himself. For his birthday, no less. So-o-o, AFTER his last birthday in May, I actually got around to starting it (sigh-- I think the kids are used to my pace by now). These are pictures of the set I finally finished for him on a bed in our guest room. I haven't seen it on his bed, yet. It's made with two tones of lighter fabric with dark brown applique (reverse on the small pillow).

As I've mentioned before, I have a lot of little pieces of glass left over from various and sundry panels and mosaic seemed a good way to use them up. Here's my second little project. We needed a little half-round table to set under a window and between two chairs in the kitchen. Just something on which to place a cup of tea, that sort of thing. I built the table out of MDF, painted it black and then played with the colors on the top. Fits just right.

Sometime this week, I'll post a bit of the calligraphy I've done lately. Also, you'll be so happy, I'm sure, to see some pics of our garden. Zucchini is out in front, as usual. I guess I'll have to eat some...