I came across a good deal on cedar today that made planning and pricing the raised beds I want to put in easy-peasy: 1x6x6 boards for $3 each. Apparently they are leftovers from the mill that are made after the bigger pieces are cut. They’re supposed to be fencing but lumberyard dude suggested them for this use as well and it makes good sense to me, especially since the 2x10s that I was lusting after were $4.59 a foot. (Is it normal to lust after lumber?) At $3 a board, I’m going to build 3 beds, each 3x6x18″ and a 3x3x3 compost bin for a grand total of about $230. Can’t beat it.
The best part is that, by my very feeble math calculations, each bed will hold 1 cubic yard of dirt. That’s my kind of planning – round numbers suit my needs. Cost for 3 cubic yards of compost/ soil blend comes in right at about $100. This is clearly meant to be.
Oh – the picture – this is what happens when I try to make an actual plan – raised beds become Dragon Battle Land. It happens. Maybe the dragons will keep the tomatoes warm.
Sources: Paul Lumber and AgRecycle
First steps taken. Got the window out. In one piece. This is good. And shopped for the necessary supplies. Because, you know – I could have spent time starting the work, setting up the basement to work on it, doing a rubbing to serve as a template, taking apart the damaged pieces, cleaning each piece. But there was shopping to do! And by god if there is shopping to do it needs to be done, first.
I’ve got a canner load of dried beans goin’ on here. Trying a no-cook method (well-other than the 75 minutes in the pressure cooker) because they have been too mushy lately. Mushy is good for bean dip, but not for anything else. Fingers crossed they are firm and I don’t blow up the house.
She ain’t big, but her eggs are HUGE! (But not freakishly so.) And her feathers are beautiful.
There was crazy-ass hail and a tornado near Yinzerville yesterday. I’m readying our household for the apocalypse. And what good is impending doom without muffins? None, I say.
A 5 minute attempt to define open projects and relevant completion objectives, because that’s what being an anal retentive procrastinator is all about:
- Finish spring sweater before fall. Or edit pattern to include turtleneck.
- Fix paver steps to the garden and chickens. Would be easier if crazy rain hadn’t turned them into a waterfall. Actually, a waterfall would be nice….
- Build raised beds for the garden. Source magical soil and mulch from renewable resources. Remember that we don’t have a truck anymore.
- Buy truck. Convert to veggie oil to avoid guilt for buying truck.
- Actually do yoga instead of thinking about yoga.
- Fix front stained glass window. The tape is too trashy for words.
- Make better bread. Less rock-like. But then what would the chickens eat? Grow grain in raised beds.
- Finish kitchen reno project.
- Start seeds. Find all the stuff needed to start seeds. Basement. Crap.
- Clean the basement.
- Build walls around new furnace and duct work. 3 years ago.
- Add insulation to roof. Screw the walls.
- Close hole in third floor ceiling. Or put in fold -stairs. Or a whole house fan.
- Wash two of the chicken’s butts. But only two.
- Finish reading the four books I have started before starting another.
- Paint third floor floors with lead encapsulating paint. Then lick floors.
- Rebuild front planter before it completely rots and sends children to ER.
- Can dried beans. Because I can.
- Take giant load of stuff to Goodwill enabling use of dining room table. Then do giant jigsaw puzzle that doesn’t actually fit on table.
- Get new table.
- Refinish first floor floors. Or get new floors. Or move.
- Install third floor light fixtures. Find third floor light fixtures. Probable location: basement.
- Oh crap – the basement. Dammit.
And it’s reminding me that there are no shortcuts. And when you make a mistake, admit it, take the hit, and move on.
Unfortunately I haven’t been listening or I’d be done already.