Harsh Conditions

Living at Plan473 can have harsh conditions.  Salt air, salt soil, hot salt, dry salt, humid salt, and wind salt.  See where the harsh conditions are revolving from?  Aside from salt damage, normal wear tear, and excessive usage, and age all affect day to day routines.  Unfortunately, "normal" is not standard across users.  As I am typically harder on all products than designed specifications, my normal destroys itself much quicker. Every week a new item is added to the ever growing list and every week we try to remove an item. There are days when the list seems endless.  Living in harsh conditions requires constant diligence.  Constant meaning when something breaks.  Not constant as in ahead of the game.  No time for prevention, we handle conditions as it happens.

Like this $20 million dollar spoon repair.  Plan473 does not believe in excess waste.  If ain't broke, don't fix it.  If it is broke, fix it . If it can't be fix, try to replace with used before buying new.  This spoon is irreplaceable. Not only because it has memories attached to it but because they simply don't make it anymore.  Some people out there would shelf this spoon and only admire it for its antique value.  Well that is stupid.  It is a spoon, a damn good spoon at that, so it will be used.  Until is breaks that is.

And break it did.  Luckily grandma's spoon broke in the best possible way and could easily be fixed.  Easily if your husband has an aluminum welder, aluminum rods thin enough for this material, and the means to weld without making gobbly-goup welds on the teeny-tiny handle. Most people say they can weld.  Welding aluminum is something all together different.  At least that is what the aluminum welders will have you believe.  Aluminum welding takes patience and care and skill.  Good thing the Planner has all of the above as my welding skills are not to this level, yet.

The Planner easily fixed my beloved spoon and even shined to its original beauty at a cost he told me of $20 million dollars.  When ask if he took payments, he just laughed and said payments are $1 per meal.  Holy Moly! At $1 per meal at maybe 400 meals per year worth, it would take 50K years to repay.  Guess he thought my credit was good.

Harsh conditions effects everything.  Inanimate or not.  Here it is the end of September and while the majority of people are watching leaves change and busting out winter gear, South Texas still remains in the throws of late summer heat.  In fact, I would venture to say late September and early October heat is worse than dry hot days in August.  In August, everyone knows it is supposed to be hot.  In September, ones' minds drifts to fall activities which leads to winter activities which then leads to cooler weather thoughts.  This train of thought is bad for the mind as it is still upper 90's with 10000 percentage of humidity. Unfortunately for the doggo, she does not know of this human calendar we base our lives around.  All she knows is that it is still freaking hot.  Wonder what she ponders as she sits with her nose against the fan?

Some harsh conditions are brought upon themselves.  Such as this chicken, or used to be chicken. Nurple, the second acquired rooster has been warned for the last few months that if he did not stop chasing hens, his days were going to be numbered.  Well, his number came.

One.  One less chicken.  One chicken in a pot.  Having no experience with homegrown chickens, this is the second time I have boiled a rooster with less than stellar results.  If tough, dry birds are the result of free range chickens, some additional thought will have to be given for new pullets purchased next February.  Chickens at Plan473 are not pets, they are pest control and with a small egg production. This is not happy eternal home for chickens.  When their purpose is no loner needed or they can no longer fulfill their duties, their number will be called too. The assortment of hens currently in house are multi-duty birds meaning they are not full meat bird nor full duty egg birds.  I am hoping in January when the older birds are thinned out for the new birds in February, their meat is more tender than this stuck in your teeth, chew on it for hours, stringy rooster.

After weeks and weeks of asking for Just One Inch, the weather finally responded.  One inch (maybe more) in a sudden, random, mighty downpour.  Lasting less than ten minutes, everything was caught off guard.  By the time windows were shut it was over.  By the time the chickens made it to the safety of their coop, it was over.  Water on floors and running down windows and doors is easy enough to clean up.  Water off a chicken is not like water off a ducks back.  Water off of a drowned chicken, not my problem.

Some harsh conditions are brought upon from incorrect care and are irreparable.  Designed for "outside" usage, these chairs are just a few short years old and they have already meet their final days.  Probably not designed for Plan473 outside conditions, they probably should be stored inside when not in use and not left in the harsh direct UV for 12 hours a day.  If I had a sewing machine, new seats could maybe be installed.  But alas, I do not have a machine, nor do I want a machine.  With that, the chairs were scraped to the metal bin and new chairs are being sought after.  Aluminum chair so they last longer.

Some harsh conditions are brought upon from excessive wear.  As stated, I am very hard on my equipment.  When companies design new products, they should call me to test its strength/durability/wear-ability.  Understanding businesses only continue to grow and make money when new products are sold, old products therefore have a built in lifespan.  But don't you hate it when the product you love is no longer sold, or has been modified, or replaced and the "new" product is subpar?  This seems to happen with a greater frequency.  In the last five years, I have switched bluejean companies because the companies keep changing to follow trends.  Whose trends?  Not mine, nobody asked me what I want or in this case don't want in a jean.

Living in salt in a metal box really does requires constant diligence.  Knowing and doing are two different things.  As I said, Plan473 is more of a handle as it happens.  Coming into the work box and finding rusty water on your cardboard boxes is one of those this needs to be handled right now kinda situations.  We both new the spot on the roof was thin and would need replacing but since it has not rained in months and months, the immediate need was not warranted.  Now, is a different story.

After fixing the hole in the roof, the Planner moved along to a hole in the side of the box that was discovered months ago.  While just the size of a pencil tip, the hole did not cause immediate need for repair so it was left alone.  Once cleaned and prepped for welding, the hole grew to the size of an eraser head.  Still nothing major.

A simple 1"x1" backing patch was placed on the inside on the box and the Planner welded a quick tack to seal the hole from the outside.  The whole process including cutting the patch took less than ten minutes. Then he moved to the second hole four panel groves down the wall.

Let us just say after ten minutes, I gave up holding the red hot patch and went to cook dinner.  Welding gloves and hoods could be seen and heard being thrown across the yard. Dinner came and went and the hole was still there.  After a cool down and some tasty grub, no not the nasty chicken, the Planner attacked the hole again and 30 minutes later he was done.  Why one project goes so well when the next goes to the crapper is beyond me.  Same wall, same patch material, same welder, same weather.  Two different results.  Glad that was done.

Another project that came as a sudden we need to fix this now was the chicken coop.  The Kid came in from collecting the eggs to inform me the box was a wet mess inside.  After cleaning out the wet mess (I guessed the rain came from the south and blew in the side window as that was the side that was wet) and while laying new bedding down did I discover the true reason for the wet mess.  A broken roofing sheet.

Can't say that I am shocked.  The sheets are two and half years old, and since good old Hurricane Harvey, are in full exposure to the sun and all of its UV harshness.  These roofing sheets were not designed for these conditions.  Luckily, the Planner had left over sections from when the coop was built so this was a quick, easy fix. Yeah!

In fact, the hardest part was collecting the broken pieces.  When attempting to remove the old broken sheet, it shattered into about a million shards and went everywhere.  It will takes weeks to collect.  Boo.  I hate half finished projects.

Ha! Half finished projects.  It seems everything right now at Plan473 is in a state of half finished projects.  Working on a project such as Plan473 might always be in a state of half finished.  Living with harsh conditions results in the state of half finished projects.

This Dog

This Dog! This dog turns 14 human years today.  In dog years she is over 70. Her age does not defies her. This dog is a mess, has always been a mess, and will for the next foreseeable future continue to be mess. Upon deciding all those years ago before actually having a dog, if and when we got a dog, there would be one simple guideline: We go, she goes.  If she can't go, we can't go. Therefore, this dog has always been a go dog.  From the very get go she has had the princess seat.  You know, the seat directly in the middle so she can see over the dash.  The seat directly in the middle so she lean on either human at her discretion.  The seat directly in the middle because it has the most room.

So yes, the princess seat.  Don't get me wrong, she has spent countless hours riding in the back of the truck.  Most of this time came, much to her complaints, because of the Kid.  It is socially acceptable to place a dog in the back of the truck, although much preferred if there are strapped in for safety.  It is not socially acceptable to place a kid in the back of the truck even if they were strapped to their car seats.  As the kid grew out of his car seat and into the booster seat, this dog reappeared more and more in the front seat.  Never having fully regained the princess seat as the truck is single cab, she is still in the front and not in the back where lesser dogs ride.

The best rearrangement to the seating was when the beep-beep was purchased in 2014.  This allowed everyone to have their own seat.  Hot dog.  What an amazing change that made.  Of course, anytime the front seat was evicted, this dog was jump from the back to the front for her place at the throne.  When made to move back to her seat, the mover was given Dog Eyeballs.  Having started out as a simple stare down, Dog Eyeballs have been perfected over the years and are now refined to a stilted eye stare down over a lowered snout with ears tucked down.

Having to make some adjustments since the Kid, this dog pretty much goes where she wants, when she wants, and how she wants.  And this is not limited to the human mode of transportation either.  If is possible to squeeze her big dumb head into whatever space she desires, she goes.  Over the years, sticking her head into undesirable spaces has gotten her into trouble.

Not once, but three times. In her younger days, this dog loved holes in the ground.  No wait, she still loves holes in the ground.  Luckily for her, now the holes have benign gophers not 5 foot (or bigger) rattlesnakes.  Within a years time, this dog lived out the Skunk Hole Song:

She stuck her head
Into a little snake hole,
and the little snake said,
"Well bless my soul!,
"Take it out, Take it out,
"Take it out, Remove it!"

Oh, She didn't take it out
And the little snake said"If you don't take it out,You'll wish you had,Take it out! Take it out!"Yozers! She removed it


This dog did not remove it and got struck on the snout three times.  The first go around dammed near killed her.  In fact, the ER vet told me to take her home and just be with her because she wouldn't make until the morning.  That was the summer of 2009. The remaining two strikes, a year later and within a months time of each other non the less, were more just a nuisance and a mess.

All dogs are pack dogs. Her pack is the three of us, much to her dismay, as she still only just tolerates the Kid. Her pack mentality is so strong she just can't stand to be left out.  Ever.  With age, this pack mentality had increased tenfold for every year she aged.  If you are going, she is going.

This dog follows when you cut the grass, clean the chicken coop, walk the kid to the bus stop.  She follows from one room to the other. She follows from the inside the Rainstream to the attached deck. She follows from one box to the other and back again.

This dog even follows from one end of the box to the other.  Upon opening to the Work Box in the am, this dog follows up the stairs and immediately lies down in either door way so as the person leaving has to step over her or she lies directly under the chair in which you are sitting.  As soon as she hears/feels the back doors being opened she ambles down the distance of the SAME room to greet you at the door.  Upon enough head room of space, with the love of her head in holes, she sticks her head out and demands attention.  It is as if she is saying to you: I walked my crunchy self down this 40' length of box the least you could do is love me.  Love me when the first door opens.  Love me when the second door opens.  Just love me.

This dog follows you like a monkey on a leash.  Hell, like a dog on a leash.  Except for the first time in her entire life she is not leashed.  With her age, she has less and less go and instead has more and more sleep.  She no longer wanders as wandering takes away from sleep.  Sleep is her primary goal for the day.  Sleep that must be done directly under your feet or at your side or as close as she physically can get. Spring may have sprung for this old lady dog but her pack mentality coils tighter everyday.  This need to stay within the pack is so strong, that being more than any distance other than directly under your feet is to far away. And once she feels left out, let the Dog Eyeballs commence.  As a mother, Dog Eyeballs are like water off a ducks back to me.  However, when the Dog Eyeballs fail her, she slips into her Austrian roots mode.  Yodeling.  With her yodeling, there are just no words...

Just No Words...

I guess this dog will spend her remaining years (one, or two or twenty) perplexing me and leaving me standing there with just no words.  Her latest: bone burying.  In the last few weeks she has decided to bury bones, something she has never done before.  And with everything else she does that makes little sense, she buries the bone in the one and only rock pile.  We live in a sand pit and she buries her bone in the rock pile left over from the last footing work.  Why?

Because This Dog, that is why.

Just One Inch

All I asked for was one inch of rain weekly for the next few weeks to two months.  Just one inch.  Rain received in the last two weeks has been close to just over a half of inch each week.  Not quite one inch, but beggars cannot be choosy.  Besides, how can I be choosy and ungrateful when nature shows its gratitude all around us.  Having said this more than once and knowing it will be said again more than once, I am going to say it again.  Nature does not give a damn.  I may be mourning the loss of yet another tree from the lack of rain and wishing it would rain more to save them but the wildflowers are blooming.  Blooming on less than one inch of total rain in two weeks time.  Amazing.

Lack of rain only really affects human emotions.  The trees don't care.  The birds and the bees don't care. The grass and understory growth don't care.  If it rains they grow.  If it does not rain, they die back and wait for the next rain.  If it continues to not rain, they die back altogether and lay dormit until nature says the time is right to regrow.  Trying to save trees is stressful and pointless.  This one of the many pushed over trees from Harvey. In an attempt to lift spirits in the aftermath, this large tree was pulled up and cabled to another tree in attempt to save it.  It was heavily watered and well cared for and yet it dies.

 Coming to accept that the trees could not be saved and not wanting a four foot hole in the ground to trap some passerby dog/cat/kid, the Planner covered up the hole and sealed the fate of the tree to nature.  Human intervention can only save what it can save and efforts above and beyond are just wanted energy.  There are plenty of other things that needs our time that will produce better results than attempted tree salvage.  Guess the one inch of rain was a little too late.

It's Always About the Water

Two years since Harvey has past and the trees are taking yet another hit.  After surviving the winds and the 25"-30" of rain during Hurricane Harvey in 2017, then the 28" of rain in one week during the summer of 2018, the trees may finally have meet their demise in 2019.  On average, the coastal bend receives about 30" of rain yearly with summer being dry.  This year at almost three-quarters of the way through the year, we have received less than half of our normal rain allotment.  Add the lack of rain to the higher than average heat and the damaged trees are suffering once again.

Having called the local Ag-Extension office, we have been informed it could be anything from lack of water, residual damage from Harvey, delayed shock from the excessive amounts of water two years in a row, to heat stress.  But what is not, thankfully, oak wilt.  Oak wilt is TERRIBLE and virtually untreatable.  Caused by the spread of a fungus that disables the water system within the tree, it affects all types of oak trees at all stages of age.  Oak wilt slowly kills the tree via dehydration.  There are areas within the coastal bend that have experienced oak wilt but currently it is not locally.  Yet.

What is baffling is the areas of affected dying trees is also affecting the native under-story.  Native brush that is almost impervious to drought conditions such as yaupon and American beauty berries. One clump of trees affected are the three large trees behind the water collection tanks.  Some of the largest trees on the property, they were some of the hardest hit wind wind damage. The fourth tree in the clump perished with Harvey had taken the brunt of the wind and fell over onto the other trees.  The remaining three trees have never rebound correctly and have always looked less full than others.  Another clump of trees are small, wispy and young in age, maybe twenty years in age or so.  Nevertheless, loosing trees is hard to accept when tress are so hard to come by.

 By the middle of August, I could not stand by to watch the trees die any further.  Water collected from the shower nightly had been spread amongst the trees.  Each day a different tree received three to four gallons of water.  However, with threes that are 36" in diameter and 30' tall, a few gallons once a week is not enough.  In attempts to stave off any further dehydration issues and not having water to spare in the collection tanks, the Planner decided to dig a hole to determine the ground water level.  If water was accessible, it could be collected and poured onto the trees.  Something had to be done.

Scoop after scoop and each bucket full was just a dry as the last.  Thirty minutes later and the dirt pouring out of the bucket was dry as dust.  What is normally wet moist sticky blue clay was hard chalky clumps lacking the moisture to stick to my fingers let alone form a small ball.  Close to four feet down in a hole and no water could be found.  If Plan473 cannot use mechanical advantage to dig a hole straight down into the earth's core, then shallow rooted oak trees are at a loss.

Another week gone by with not a drop of rain and the Planner was once again stressing the lack of water.  Monthly water level checks have become weekly.  At three thousand gallons per tank, each tank only holds about three months of water supply at our current usage.  The one tank is within a few hundred gallons of empty.  With the lack of rain, two to -three gallons of water is collected from the nightly AC drip.  This water is shared between the plants in buckets, the doggo, and the chickens.  Bucket plants are watered enough water to stave off death but not enough to allow for blossoms. Birds and bees are gonna have to find food elsewhere.  It is getting to be serious around here.

 And then after another week of dry, hot, humid days it rains!  Not a downpour and not by any means enough to fill the water collection tank or repair damaged trees, it was enough to settle the dust.  Lasting less than 30 minutes and not raining more than a inches worth, it was beautiful.  Chickens were clucking around happily, frogs were singing, and everything looked fresh and clean.  Amazing.

It was just enough water that it pooled in low spots such as chair seats but not enough to wash the road out.  If the random rain shower had been anything more than what it was, it would have been a mess causing the dried out driveways to turn into sticky mud pits.  But it didn't.  It was the perfect amount of rain for not having rained in over two months.  Now if it could just do that once a week or so for the next two months and things would straighten themselves out.  An inch of rain each week would be perfect.  An inch of rain each week would end our stress at our lack of water once again.  Not being connected to city water and not having access to unsalted ground well water can be stressful at times like this.  Luckily for us, those times have been few and far between.

And would you know, just two days after having rained, the city was seen installing a city water main down our cross street.  City water less than 200' away.  Almost three years to date since Plan473 entered the Great Water Debacle at having discovered our little piece of land lack drinkable well water and city water was a more than the cost of the land itself, it looked like we might finally be able to secure a city line tap.  Of course, a city tap would come at a cost outside our current budget.  But it is nice to know, that if in the future if needed, we can obtain a city tap.  Having lived on collected water for close to three years, I can honestly say, I enjoy our system much more than the chemically laid city water.  Now, if we just get it to rain one inch a week.  Not being greedy, just one inch a week for the next few weeks to two months.  That would be perfect.

Aah, Middle School

The Kid is going to middle school.  And after a long summers of "I'm bored", "its hot", and general complaining, I can't say that I am sad to see him go.  Middle school here is a major change from elementary school as I guess it is in most public school settings. I went to a elementary/middle school where there were two teachers for every grade and less than 50 kids per grade.  My middle school years had the same eight teachers, two of which were the same from years previous as they were the art/computer/music teacher and the PE coaches.  To say the least I went to school with the same 40 or so kids from Kinder - 8th grade.  The remaining 10 or so kids rotated in and out.

Last week was open house/student orientation.  Not required but recommended, this kid was all about it. Most students would groan, grumble, and complain at being dragged to orientation. Not reminding their parents daily and then pacing with anticipation the day of.  Crazy kid.

Yesterday, we had to run over to the next larger city and get shoes.  Had all other means for school supplies except the shoes.  No time like the present.  Look how big his shoes are.  They are a men's 5.5! This the kid who just out grew toddler waist shorts has a foot big enough to ski. Maybe this is a size of the things to come. Or he could just be one of those men with feet to large for his frame, like a family friend David N.  Yes, David N. as there are about a dozen Davids between family and family friends.  David must have been a popular name during my parents generation.  Anyhoo... David N. is over 5'5" and has a size 15.5 shoe.  Talk about skies.  The Kid could be one his way to personal skies at this rate.

This morning the Kid was ready for school with his power shirt (one his sailing Regatta shirts), two working watches to make sure he is not late, a quick one last new shoe smell, and he was out the door.  Of course, this was not before eating with his comforts: one toddler monkey blanket and his beloved Raffi.  Not quite a tween just yet.

This afternoon was altogether another story.  Treating the Kid to pizza for dinner, we sat at the table and read thru and signed each student/teacher and parent/student/teacher contract.  After the third teacher's warning against messy, ill kept binders, the Kid was done with schooling for the year.

Aah, a tween after all...

Laid Daily

On July 25, the Brown Leghorn (Ears, named for her bright white ears) laid her first egg.  It was so tiny it did not even seem real at the size and weight of an oval shaped ping pong ball. Despite all her issues with the other hens and Nurple the rooster, she consistently lays her little tiny eggs.  As in lays her eggs daily.  None of these chickens are daily egg producers, so this must be part of her transition into a hen.  You know, kinda of like trying on adulthood to see how what works best.  If she was a daily egg layer, her life span expectancy would be very short lived as it takes tremendous amounts of energy to lay an egg.

A couple of weeks into her egg production the eggs are still very small, comparatively speaking.  In the above picture, the brown egg is from the Barred Rock and the blue is from one of the three Ameraucana.  Both of these eggs are smaller than large white eggs from the grocery store.  So yes, her eggs are very small indeed.

Being new to egg production, all kinds of mishaps can occur.  The eggs can be all white with no yolk, double yolk, and paper,y spotted or irregular shaped shells to name a common few abnormalities.  Another example are too small or too large eggs.  In the case of the Brown Leghorn it was an excessively large egg.

Now, I figure having eggs is like having children and the body adjusts for large eggs as it does for large infants.  But if the human body has a limit on the size of an infant it can safely birth, then a hen must have a limit on the size of an egg she can produce.  With the strain of this large egg, you can just barely make out the wavy shell on the top of the egg, left hand side.  Wavy shells are stress indicators for hens.  Stress can be from weather being too hot or too cold, nesting box being too crowded, and from the natural age of hen to name a few reasons.  Continued stress during egg production can lead to early death.  

Hopefully the Brown Leghorn situates her egg production quickly.  In the past week, she has laid daily one tiny egg with today's large egg being the exception.  At this rate of egg production, she will be past her prime before her age.  Hens without eggs are then chickens in a pot.  Maybe not a pot with her.  Maybe she will have to be a Cornish hen.  Cornish hen with lots and lots of side dishes.