Not the Trees!

When I was little I read a book where the main character went to a museum to visit the last living tree.  This book has haunted my memories.  I have looked and looked for this book as an adult but have never found it.  This book, written at least 40 years ago, is more prevalent today than ever.  If the author is alive, I wonder how he views the current state of affairs on the decline of trees.  Sure there are places in the world where trees are abundant.  Texas is not one of those places.  Here it will cause people to stand against their family and friends, neighbors and neighborhoods, city and county officials as they squabble about the trimming, removal, and protection of a tree.  Here trees are more precious than gold.

Treed property, no matter the size, shape, or type is significantly more valuable than fields. Cities all across this great state have enacted ordinances for the protection of trees.  This city has a Tree and Landscape Committee and the county has a Live Oak Tree Preservation Committee.  But unlike The Lorax, the city does not "speak for the trees" out of the goodness of their hearts or protection of a resource.  They speak for the trees because enough citizens complained about clear cutting and removal of this limited resource when acres were cleared for a new shopping center and hotel.  In this city, abidance of tree ordinances requires money. And with enough money, the trees are not really protected at all.  According to city and county ordinance, a tree is "a woody plant having well-defined stem or trunk and a more or less definitely formed crown, and usually attaining a mature height of at least eight feet".  For those not familiar with Texas and its many "trees", this includes the mesquite, cedar, and weesatch trees.  Some who would argue are not really trees at all.

According to Texas A&M Forest Service, a honey mesquite is "a thorny, multi-trunked shrub, or a medium-sized tree to 40 feet tall and one or more leaning, crooked trunks 18" to 24" in diameter".  Finding a 25-foot tall mesquite tree is a rare find.  These plants have adapted very well to the South Texas dry, hot weather conditions making them the bane of any farmers field.  They are fast growers, covered in thorns, and have seeds that can lay dormant for years before germination.  Animals love to eat mesquite beans because they are sweet.  But what goes in must come out.  And for farmers, that means more mesquites bushes/trees.  Similar in design and features are weesatch bushes. Unlike mesquite trees, they remain bush size but can be pruned to look like a tree.  The picture below is a weesatch at a friend's house.  Notice the bright yellow buds.  It is a beautiful example of a pruned weesatch tree.  A tree mind you with 4-inch thorns capable of piercing through gloves, pants, and even tractor tires

Ashe juniper, otherwise known as a mountain cedar or just plain cedar tree, is "a shrub or small to medium-sized tree, growing to 30 feet tall and a trunk to 16" in diameter" and is "considered an invasive weed species over much of its range".  Just says that words cedar fever anywhere in south/central Texas and people will cringe.  This tree quickly propagates and is highly aggressive for water yet drought tolerant.  In the winter, it blooms heavily with orange pollen causing sinus havoc for people statewide. 

While there are no cedar trees in the coastal bend, there are plenty of mesquite and weesatch.  Plan473 has at least two well establish mesquite trees.  There could be more but the briar and grapevines limit access to the middle clump of trees.  Tree removal is not our goal.  Removal of dead and ill-formed is understandable. Thinning causes me great pain but thinning is required for the health of future trees.  I love these live oak trees with the low slung branches, the wildlife that lives in the trees, and the shade provided by the trees.

According to both the city and county ordinance, no tree over 6inches can be removed.  If protected trees are removed, then there are rules governing how many, what type, the location of new planting, and the time frame to offset the removal.  Failure to comply with these ordinances can result in a $500 fee per tree.  Wow, with a fee that steep it would seem that no tree is ever removed?  But as we know, progress dictates growth and growth requires "exemptions" for tree removal.

In order for a building permit to be issued, paperwork must be filled out stating where structures will be placed, how many trees are to remain, and how many trees at what size are being removed. If you are in the city this process requires even more money because this paperwork must be approved by a certified tree expert and several city departments. What this means in the short of it, is that any tree no matter the type or size can be deemed an "exempted" tree if prohibits the building of a structure, ie: a home, a home addition, a garage, a pool, and of course driveways. Not only are these trees granted an exemption, they do not have to be replaced.

While there are many other exemptions, there is only one other affecting Plan473.  Residing in the county means that these ordinances only applies to property greater than 1acre.  Acreage lots are the new fancy neighborhoods.  In the county, lots range from 30-50 wide by 125-200 feet long, making lots a long ways from an acre.  So what does this mean exactly?  It means that every tree no matter the size, age, or type can be removed at the owner's whim.  Clear cutting is completely legal.  It seems that protecting the trees as it turns out is more fluff than substance.  What a shame.

Plan473 will not be clear cutting their land.  Every tree removed will be selected based upon a tree's health, grass growth, and general protection of the land.  When trees are removed, the wood will be salvaged for firewood.  This is to include sticks too, otherwise known as kindling.  The smaller branches will be used for ground cover once mulched therefore offering back its nutrients.  Trees are crucial to Plan473 and we will "speak for the trees".

Just Keep Rolling On

Just when things starting rolling along at Plan473, everyday life tends to kick you.  Went to visit family over the weekend and all was lovely until we were half way home.  Driving along it sounded like a stick was stuck under the truck.  The sound was made when driving straight, turning to the left or the right, driving slow, or running down the highway.  Tires go round and round, round and round and should not wobble side to side.  As you guessed it was not a stick, it was the ball joints.

Argh!  There were all these things planned for this week and to the wayside they went.  Of course when things of this nature occur it always causes grumbling and negative thoughts. Why now?  Why me?  Really? Come on, seriously?  Negative, negative, negative.

If one were to rationally think about things after the emotions have settled, one would realize the truck is 11 years old and has 170k miles.  It has survived salt air, salt water, and salt deicer. It has had stock tires, off road tires, and now mile friendly street tires  It has gone from stock long bed, to camper bed, to utility flatbed. So honestly, new ball joints and tie rods are just normal wear and tear.  I mean, the oil is changed every 5000 miles and no complaints are ever made about that!

Of course, positive Polly would say that things could always be worse. And then...

After pulling the Big 'Un to its new home, thought we'd give it the once over.  The brakes weren't working on the trip over and besides it's always a good idea to give a used piece of equipment some TLC.  This trailer had belonged to a hotshot driver, and we knew it had some mileage. Turns out is must have been driven to hell and back, twice. The brake drums were toast, several pieces of the brake hardware were missing or broken, and the axle seals were shot.

Fortunately, the previous owner had recently installed brake shoes and included several old backing plates with hardware that could be salvaged. So after buying new drums, seals, and magnets; everything was cleaned up and reinstalled.

So yes, plans were postponed and the job took longer than anticipated. But it is done and done and our plans can roll on.....

That's a Big 'Un

Went to look at a trailer today to haul shipping containers and my first thought was "that's a big un".  I have been dragging trailers around since forever.  Well not forever, but close to it. There have been homemade short box trailers, wide construction trailers, farm trailers, dump trailers, goosenecks, several different travel trailers, and tiny little sailboat trailers. Trailers have been hauled in the pouring down rain during rush hour traffic, cross-country on roads not wide enough for cars, directly into the setting sun, during the middle of the night on unknown backroads, with and without brakes, and many times overloaded in capacity.  Every trailer is different yet all the same.  Until today's trailer.

Today's trailer is 37', an impressive amount of trailer for anyone who has ever pulled a trailer!  This is not a trailer you just hook on to and drag around through the neighborhood for funsies.  No, this is a trailer where curbs are jumped, small cars are pushed off the road, takes four lanes to make a right turn and three for a left. This is the mother of all trailers. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of long trailers out on the road, I just never noticed how long they were until buying one. 

What's more impressive is the fact it used to be 40'. Bob, the older man who sold us this massive beast, has been pulling this around all over Texas and back just for work. He had it shortened for ease of maneuvering and load hauling.  Load hauling, yeah right,  He probably shorted it in order to get in and out of his suburbia neighborhood.  I mean seriously, he had a driveway installed just for the trailer!  Even though Bob was reluctant to part with his beloved trailer, he completed a final walk through.  Trailer geek!  He checked air pressure, tightened some loose boards, greased hubs, and found an extra tire for our usage.  And these were only just a few of the many things he did to "prepare the trailer for its next trip". 

Why would anyone not in the business of needing a trailer like this buy a trailer this specialized?  Well, I am glad you asked.  Plan473 is now in the business of hauling shipping containers.  When all things are said and done, Plan473 will have purchased 8-10 shipping containers.  Four for the shop, two for the house, one for the kid, one for storage, one for the business, and one for rentals/guests.  Buying locally means that the seller has tacked on the shipping costs to his base purchase price. Depending on the seller, the costs can be as much as double of the wholesale prices.  Sellers in Houston or San Antonio, where boxes are much cheaper, will ship to a destination at a price of $4 a mile. At a minimum of 300 miles round trip, it became financially clear we would be hauling our own shipping containers.  Even with wear and tear on truck and trailer and time investment of each trip, the trailer will have paid for itself in the purchase of three shipping containers.  Besides, once completed with this project the trailer can always be sold.  Honestly, what I am gonna do with a 37' trailer? Take it to the grocery store?

Water, Water, Everywhere

It that not the most beautiful bottle of water you have ever seen?  Look all you want but you can't have it.  Sailors used to say, "water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink".  Yup, salt water! Not slightly salty, where a Britta filter could be used, no SALTY.  As in it might as well be drawn straight from the bay itself.  A week has gone by since the well was completed and all progress to Plan473 has been put on hold. Who knows what this will mean for rescheduling, but without water, there is nothing.

Phone calls have been made to various local government officials, health departments, state resources, water filtration companies both local and national, other drill companies, and people you think would be able to offer assistance.  Let me tell you right now that these people all refer to one another, yet not one person has an answer.  Many hinted at in a non-supported basis to run the well for up to 48hours. Sometimes it takes a while for the well to clear out from being drilled. With the use a borrowed generator, the well was flushed again. Once again, water was wasted in attempts to produce drinkable water.

When this didn't resolve the issue calls were made again to these same people on what should be done next.  The closest we came to a next step, not even a solution, was made by a nationwide water filtration company.  It was suggested to have the water tested to show A) exactly how salty the water is and B) what other minerals were involved. Salt water was one issue but having hard salt water was another whole level of complexity.  HARD WATER!  Are you kidding me? We live less than a mile from the bay in the sandy soils of the coastal plains.  There is not a natural rock to be found for miles!

After more frustrating phone calls, a third party testing lab was found an hour away.  Having the water tested is no simple process.  The well had to run for several more hours, one gallon of water was collected in an approved, secured transport container, and once collected it had to be delivered to the testing facility within 24 hours.  The lab is testing for a wide variety of minerals and should have the results within ten-twelve days.  Ahh....the waiting place.

The Well Man

 

I have heard of New York time, Central Standard time, and beach time.  Where we live there is such a thing as local time.  Locals have a love-hate relationship with what is referred to as "our city's name" time. This is a small mom and pop county of 20K people.  There is no rush hour traffic, no rush to beat peak hours at the one and only grocery store, and there is surely no rush to get work done.  In fact, the only rush experienced is by the summer and weekend tourists trying to accomplish vacation goals on their limited time frame. These are the people that speed through town, clog up the shopping stores, and complain about the general lazy manner of the locals.  This city takes the coastal image of relaxation seriously.

And oh how FRUSTRATING that image can be when relying on others for a job to be done.  The well man was referred to us by residents in new neighborhoods, long time residents in old established communities, and county officials.  Wow, this company must be the best of the best!  We should have  well within a few weeks.  Yeah, umm, no. After scheduling around "city" time, holidays, and backlogged work, the well man finally showed up with his crew of two.

Having grown up with a well, understanding the workings is not a new experience.  A well is dug based upon reliable factors such as aquifer boundaries, water tables, and tidal plains.  After attempting to get a better understanding of our geological structure and having no results, our well was dug based on the experience of our driller.

Having the crew show up in a truck leftover from a Mad Max movie gave me a few reserves.  This skill is pre-historic in terms of revolutionary.  The only advancement in the last 60 years is that the drill is now mechanically powered.  Drill a hole, wash the dirt out, drill a hole, wash the dirt out. This process is slow, messy, and water wasteful.

Here we are at Plan473 trying to conserve water in a dry environment by installing items like low-flow toilets, shower heads, and faucets.  Where gray water will be used to water plants and every building will have a collection barrel. The creation of a well requires lots of water. Being that city water is unattainable (more about that in another post), a well must be dug.  In doing this, thousands of gallons of water was dumped into the yard where we are wasting water to create water.

After three days, 145 feet later, the well was completed.  And golly, what beautiful water it is.  Unfortunately, beautiful was the only positive descriptive available for our well water.  What is the saying; Never judge a book by its cover, Looks can be deceiving, or Don't knock it until you try it?

Too bad none of those things applied here.  What can be applied is: "Water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink".  In short, what we have is pure-D, grade-A salt water.  UGH. UGH. UGH.  EXPLICIT! EXPLICIT! EXPLICIT!

The Hole to Nowhere

The weather has been hot, hot, hot.  For some reason, the last two evenings have been slightly cooler making the evenings nice.  Taking advantage of the nice weather, we decided to enjoy the weather from the tailgate of our truck at the property.  The solitude was wonderful, well more solitude than at the RV park we currently stay.  The peace and quiet were exactly what I wanted. Ahhhh. This lasted all of ten minutes before the child and husband were off doing boy things.

Boys will boys and men will be men. And what do boys of all ages like to do best?  Dig holes.  When asked why they were digging a hole, the reply was "because".  Hmph.  Because.  What kind of answer is that?  Answering "digging a hole to the center of the earth" would have been more acceptable. I get that. At least there was a purpose. Nope, dig, dig, dig.

Being a nosy nelly that I am, I just couldn't sit on the tailgate and watch. Nope, not gonna happen.  I had to go offer my assistance.  Ooh, look a hole within in a hole.  Cool. What lives in there, did you see anything?

How far are you gonna dig? How wide? What do expect to find? Is the dirt getting wetter? Are the layers are changing? Interesting.  The dirt is cool to the touch. When you are done, let's measure it.... Yup, that's me offering my assistance.

They dug and they dug and they dug until the shovel would no longer reach.  I have to admit, it was an impressive hole.  Too bad it was not deep enough for the entire child.  He-He-He, I love wack-a-mole!

Oh the Misery!

There are things that come with age.  Wisdom, knowledge, and maturity. Poor eyesight, decrease in flexibility and range of motion, and weaker immune system. I don't consider myself young nor am I old.  I'm kinda stuck in the middle. Sometimes, no matter the age, it takes an experience for one to learn and appreciate wise old sayings. Take for example "Leaves of three".  This statement has been repeated and repeated, year after year by parents, grandparents, outdoor enthusiasts, and other knowledgeable beings.  Hell, I even repeated to those younger than I.  A lot of fat good all that repeating did.  For the first time in my life I got to experience, in all its glory, poison ivy!

Poison ivy is a beautiful plant with bright, shiny green leaves.  There was no red angry colors, no orange streaks, no flashing neon sign chanting STAY AWAY, STAY AWAY, STAY AWAY.  I have seen, pointed too, hiked alongside, camped under, and cleared trees containing poison oak, poison ivy, and poison sumac.  Never once did I have a reaction to its evilness.   Never say never cause three to five days after cleaning brush, I discovered that I was covered.  My face and neck were spared, but all extremities and torso were are a red, blotchy, angry, bumpy, itchy mess.

Oh, the pain.  Heat is not welcomed when covered with such evilness. What's worse is that there was no cure for this misery except time and a cool room. Don't get me wrong, if there was a home remedy, cure, or snake oil, it was tried. Benadryl liquid gel, Calamine lotion, and generic creams are still in the medicine box at full capacity. Baking soda rubs are messy.  Hot showers are great only while in them.  Rubbing alcohol worked the best for me because it is cold and dries the itchy out.  However, rubbing alcohol burns like the fires of hell on open wounds caused by excessive scratching.

This mess lasted intensely for three weeks.  Just about the time I was healing, the husband decided that he needed to experience this in his life too. Luckily for him, we knew what to expect.  While his were more confined, he did experience a much more intensive patch on his leg. I guess reactions to poison ivy are one of those things that come with age. 

The Second Clearing

After all that work clearing, it became evident moving the Airstream under the trees would not work well. Yes, trees provide shade, buffer street lights and road traffic, and hinder the breeze. Hindering the breeze is not an option.  Just because we are moving from the RV park to the property does not mean we are gonna change our living styles.  Natural light and fresh air are important to maintain a healthy RV.  Too many people in a small space increases interior heat, dirt, and claustrophobia.  Being able to open windows and doors is a must.  And besides, a stiff breeze helps control these nasty buggers.

Mosquitoes! Everyone has some type of experience with them.  The buzzing, the biting, the slapping, and the itching.  ARGH!!! Just saying the word mosquito makes strong men weak. While I don't promote idioms, there is one about Texas that is true.  "Welcome to Texas, where everything is bigger".  Bigger here being referenced to mosquitoes sizes.  The example above is what the kid refers to as the "eagle".  Kinda have to agree, don't you think? The "eagle" is placed next to an Altoids mint for reference. How much bigger do they come?  However, these eagle sized mosquitoes are bearable compared to their tiny cousins.  The small ones, the ones you don't hear, are the buggers the bite you because they are so small you don't feel them when they land.

So this is what the husband did during his family free days with his borrowed tractor, he cleared a new home location where the summer breeze will help keeps the mosquitoes at bay.  This space was filled with brushy growth making removal easy peasy.  The only drawback to the new location is the lack of protection from the intensive summer sun.  Direct sun will bake the Airstream but the plan is to be in a home with a nice porch before next summer.  Well, that's the plan anyways....

Just a Little Trim

A family divided.  The kid has camp again this week, one in the morning and one in the afternoon.  Since he is occupied and I am at work, the husband borrowed the tractor again. He figured he'd use his family free time to piddle at the property.  Not me, I'd spend my family free time at home in the AC drawing on the house plans.  It may not be the dog days of summer but temperatures will still be in the upper 90's with a heat index in the low 100's.  To each their own.

Before he could even get started trees had to be trimmed to clear the trailer and tractor.  These trees were cleaned up two weeks ago during our staycation and now have adjusted to their new positions.  It was debated in removing the entire tree but decided one limb at a time was better.  Once the tree is gone, it's gone and replacements take years.  Oh, and pay no attention to the fact the husband is standing on the gooseneck trailer to trim the tree.  Details like that could drive a safe person crazy.

Limbs were not the only evidence that two weeks have gone by since the staycation.  Several plants are rearing their heads in the newly cleared areas.  Some are good like this palmetto the size of an adult's palm. Palmettos are a native plant and come in various varieties. It is too early to determine types.  At this point, every effort is being made to preserve any palmettos.

Some plants are bad like these briars.  Briar comes in several forms: the good, the bad, and the ugly.  Briar grows very rapidly and takes time to eradicate.  In two weeks this plant grew almost two feet.

The briar has curly tendrils, thorns and is bright green in color.  As the briar gets larger and older, the thorns become thicker and harder. The briar of them has root balls that spread under the sand like a frayed ribbon. Each of the frays is covered in little, tiny, sharp, sticky thorns.  Evil, Evil, Evil. Briar of this nature means the ground has been robbed of native grasses and vegetation due to lack of adequate sun light.  Once we start brush clearing, allowing more natural light, the native coastal will come back and it will naturally choke out nasty briar bushes. Constant diligence and time. Lots and lots of time.

Yucca, Yucca, Yucca

 

Scratch my back and I'll scratch yours.  The neighbor is letting us use her driveway until ours is built. There is legal access but it is two blocks down a paper street, a never improved road owned by the county.  A road that was laid out when the subdivision was established in the 50's. This paper road runs where our grass patch grows into the neighbor's beautiful coastal field. As a way to say thank you for such neighborly pleasantries, we cut the neighbors field, the first time in two years.  I mean we had the borrowed tractor again anyways to cut ours. How long could it take?

Yowzers, what an ordeal. Do you know what can grow into a field in that time frame? Concrete blocks, plastic bottles, rebar, Johnson Grass 8' tall, coastal grass so thick that it had to be cut on the slowest setting and at the highest heights, and these plants. Hot dog!

When asked what they were the reply was "they weren't there before, cut them down".  Hmm, four plants three feet wide, two feet tall grew in the less than two years.  Seems shifty, but what do I know.  Wait, what? Cut them down! I don't think so. These are beautiful specimens of some undetermined plant.  I want them.  "Fine", I was told, "move them to your property".  Yeah, my first plant!  Well, it will be when we figure out what it is, when it can be transferred, and how to move to it without killing it.  Sooo, my first official plant come winter.  Isn't it wonderful?

Staycation

Bye kid of mine, have fun at grandma's and at camp.  I will see you in 12 days!!! Woo-hoo, what to do with my free time? Oh that's right, work.  The first week he was gone was the normal 9-5.  The second week was when the fun started.  I took a week of vacation from work to work. Yup, sort of like a staycation. Only not as relaxing.

Up at daylight, work until it was too hot to think. When the temperature is already in the upper 80's at 6:30am, it doesn't take too long to get so damn hot I saw a little man in an orange suit burst into flames.  After lunch and a nap, it is off again at 6pm-ish until dark.

We had borrowed the tractor again, but most of this work was done by hand.  Well by hand tools.  Oh, how I love my chainsaw.  The power, the two-cycle smell, the endless potential.  Unfortunately, this time, there was a lot more limb clipping and vine pulling. No power, no oil, no noise, just a plain old limb lopper.  Don't worry, I found reasons to run the saw. Branches small enough to be cut with limb loppers but big enough to use a chainsaw.  You know, branches the size of an infant's arm.  Don't blame me, the chainsaw told me to do it.  

This section is being cleared first because this is where the house will ultimately go.  Shade all day until late afternoon, close to the work space, and plenty of space to expand later for any future endeavors like space for the kid to move into.

Five days of manual labor and this is all we accomplished.  Huff.  Oh well, any further manual labor will have to wait until it is not so hot.  You know, around October or so.  Fair warning, compressing a week's worth of video is time-consuming.  The video could use more editing but at this point, I lack the time.  So if you're in the need for a nap, enjoy!