It’s Not Illegal in Ohio

…but it is illegal in some states.  No, I’m not talking about marijuana (which still isn’t legal here).  I’m referring to capturing rainwater.  For the most part, this law correlates to the abundance of natural rainwater and by definition–how its variations will effect the local ecology*.  Here, no one cares if I capture a 55-gallon barrel of rain because the average annual precipitation for my city is 41.1 inches (according to weatherbase.com), and since 1 inch of rain per acre is 27,154 gallons (according to water.usgs.gov), and since I have 0.48 acres, if I do the math right (27154*0.48*41.1) then I receive an average of 535,694.1 gallons of precipitation per year on my property alone.  Excluding precipitation from the winter months, I have roughly 88.1 days with rain.  Every time it rains, I inevitably capture a full barrel, so 88.1*55 would be 4,845.5 gallons of captured rainwater per year (assuming I capture a full barrel every time–which I don’t because I don’t always use it up before it rains again, and the spigot is necessarily located where I can’t access all the water anyway), which is 0.9% of the total precipitation for that land mass.  Yeah, who cares?

*Except Texas.  Last I checked, they still don’t have revised water laws, despite the depletion of the Ogallala Aquifer.  And of course, there’s the Las Vegas area….

Therein lies the background, but why would I want to bother with this?  Firstly, it’s a free resource that saves me money.  4,845.5 gallons = 647.7 cf, at $26.9 per 1000 cf, that’s… $17.42 saved for the year.  Okay I suppose that isn’t much for an entire year, but still, it’s free.  Secondly, there’s the smug factor.  I’m doing my part for the environment.  Nevermind that I use twice that per shower…. Thirdly, we had the barrel sitting around as a souvenir from our trip to Kentucky, and it wasn’t serving any purpose, and besides–a project!  These reasons were as good as any.

The barrel had sat on the patio for several years at the townhouse, and a lot of water had leached into it in that time.  It was a two person effort to move the thing, so before I did anything else with it I needed to drain it.  Choosing the widest board–the one with the plug–I drilled a hole near the bottom to both drain it and to place a spigot.  The resultant bilge smelled wonderfully of residual Wild Turkey and was perfectly clear with a slight amber color, and having filtered through carbon and infused with ethanol, was probably okay to drink.  Still, I erred on the side of caution and refrained.

While it drained I needed to figure out a screen system for the input.  So I simply cut a board, assembled a square, fastened it together with a staple gun, then attached nylon screen to both sides.

If it can stop a mosquito, we’re safe

Next, I needed to drill a hole in the top.  I admit, this sounded simpler than it was.  I did not fully appreciate the strength of American White Oak, hardened by fire and essentially pressure-treated with bourbon.  Nor did I posses the appropriate tools for the job.  The process claimed four drill bits.

The wood must have been harvested during The Little Ice Age, like the Stradivarius

I wanted the frame removable yet secure, so I opted for 4 wood finishing nails.

It will NOT be a mosquito nursery

Then I had to find a way to attach a spigot.  I went to Lowe’s a perused the plumbing.  My first thought was to attach a bulkhead, but the wood was rather thick for that.  I stood with the parts in had, staring at the barrel, but then I considered that I might be overthinking it.  After all, the beauty of the wood was that it was solid yet flexible, and it’s water-tightness was because it swelled when saturated.  Perhaps the wood alone would make a seal around the brass.  I widened the hole just enough to get the first threads in, then with brute strength and a set of vice grips, forcefully cranked the spigot in.  Then to test it, I positioned the barrel upon a couple beams so it was high enough to access the spigot, filled it partially with water, and waited.  Initially, it leaked, as was expected.  But after several hours, the leak stopped.  Satisfied, I cut the downspout to accommodate the barrel.

And the rain rain rain came down down down
…Non-potable

A year later and it’s still working just fine.  I’ve since drilled an overflow, although in downpours it just spills everywhere anyway.  But I’ve also installed the rain garden since so all the excess flows away.  I’m thinking we could use another one of these for the front yard.  With two, I could save $34.84 a year–enough for a bottle of bourbon.

With overflow, rain garden, brick spillway, and hopeful basil patch to the side

Added to my vegetable garden, it’s one more incremental step towards self-sufficiency.

–Simon

Over the Rainbow (Part 2)

As an addendum to Part 1, this evening saw another rainbow.  It accompanied hail.  With the sunlight, it was a bizarre meteorological event.  Maybe it’s not a blessing after all.  Maybe the next event will be locusts.  Hmm.

June 19, 2017; 18:52

–Simon

Over the Rainbow

I find that the beauty of ephemerality is ironically similar to the that of permanence.  We mortals, viewing a work of art which has long outlived its creator, are confronted with our own fleeting existence.  And when I gaze upon a moment of natural beauty, I feel the same.

Or maybe it’s just that some things are really cool in their own right.

But if a rose is just a rose, we’d lack the multitude of spiritual and mythological Rorschach impositions upon these events: where the leprechaun hides his gold, the path to the afterlife, a promise from God…etc.  Sometimes, it’s harder to not find meaning in them.

Our house faces roughly E-S-E, which, being at about 39 degrees N latitude, translates to the direction opposite the setting sun from Spring to Fall.  Upon the conclusion of a storm, at the onset of dusk, the alignment is perfect for rainbows.

June 15, 2016; 21:02
August 28, 2016; 18:58
September 17, 2016; 18:42
May 21, 2017; 18:11

They might be simple rainbows, but since their unusual frequency coincided with us purchasing the house, I can’t help but to apply a mortal’s predilection for symbolism.  I say it’s good luck (although I really wish a pot of gold was involved too).

–Simon

Weekend Warrior

I think I shortened my lifespan this weekend.  There were certainly moments when I wanted to lay down and expire.  But rather than make individual posts and cloud the feed, I’ll make a multi-purpose single post instead to feed the cloud (heh, nerd jokes):

You Say Tomato

Yes, I removed more sod.  And I think I’ve finally had it with that.  There will be no more garden installation this year.  Seriously, I hate removing sod.

Grass is kind of just wasted space

Note that old cable box from a defunct cable company.  I’m going to have to rip that off the wall one day.  Anyway, when the house’s seller (the son of the former owner) haphazardly threw down mulch to gain a +10 curb appeal, for some reason he made this side organically-shaped.  It’s the only “garden” that wasn’t rectangular.  Maybe he got creative.  Maybe he ran out of mulch.  Who knows?  But, this is the SW side of the house, and the ideal location for a vegetable garden.  So I had to widen it anyway.

A more efficient design

We argued over the tomato-securing system.  I wanted to use trellis netting and just have a row of tomatoes.  Apparently Liz had experienced that before with her parents and the results were not as expected.  But the peculiarities of any garden are unique to their specific circumstances, so this will be an experiment anyway.  This year, we’ll try the bamboo poles.  Planting to come this weekend.

Mobile Foodies

I admit–food is not my drug.  Therefore, the many joys of food novelty are lost on me.  Among these is the influx of food trucks.  It isn’t really much cheaper, I have to yell over the sound of generators to place my order, and as the customer I’m tasked with finding my own improvised seating arrangements.

It’s hard to smile with a mouth full of hotdog

But, it is an opportunity to quickly try a variety of food options.  And those spicy Caribbean tacos I had were pretty darn good.  And it was a fun new experience for the kid, so win.

…Comes Tumblin’ Down

Look at this pine tree:

It appears unimportant to me, priority-wise.  It isn’t dying, nor is it leaning dangerously.  But my neighbor hated it, and my wife hated it.  As I spent my childhood on the Great Plains, it’s still fascinating to me that trees can grow naturally, and not have to be attended to constantly.  I like trees, but native Ohioans seem to revel in deforestation for some reason.  Ultimately, I conceded to having this one tree removed, were we to need to remove a tree to satisfy the boiling desire of my Ohioan wife to kill a tree.

My neighbor, in his excitement upon hearing word of my concession, and apparently having recently gotten his chainsaw in working order, ran over to greet us with said chainsaw, and expressed his willingness to cut the tree down at that moment–to which my wife readily agreed.

It may be just a tree, but I still have trouble with needlessly extinguishing a life

I also have many a memory of the trees in Lubbock dying, and needing to be chopped down.  And while my youthful memory likely exaggerates the negatives, I recall dad borrowing a chainsaw to fell the trees, followed by me spending hours with the pruners and bow saw, chopping and cutting, chopping and cutting…

This tree was no exception.  3-4 hours later, and we had grown the firewood supply.  And for whatever reason, the women of the neighborhood found it hilarious that I was butchering the tree with a reciprocating saw.  I guess, compared to the chainsaw, there was a penis joke in there somewhere.

What the Duck?

Ending on a happy note, a duck and her ducklings wandered down the gutter.

I wonder where she was leading them.  I’m not aware of any nearby ponds.  But last year I almost hit a duck with the mower in my front yard, so apparently we’re good duck territory despite the lack of ponds…and mechanical chopping machines.

–Simon

A River Runs Through It

Well, a drainage ditch anyway.  If you’ve talked to me about the house at all, then you’ve most definitely heard about the drainage issues, or rather, the complete lack of basic drainage.  See the Get Off My Lawn! series.  The former owner, in her battle against a flooding basement, paid to have it trenched and a sump installed.  After purchasing the house, I’ve since extended downspout drainage, and the sump has remained dry ever since.

Until recently.  We had a very dry summer last year, and it didn’t give me a good baseline with which to predict future water problems.  This spring has seen a lot of water, and now the sump is running.  This in itself of course isn’t a problem–the water is being handled dutifully by the pump.  Outside, however…

ugly hose

Someone had retrofitted a vacuum hose to the outlet.  Again, effective, but incredibly ugly.  And then the kid played with it and cracked it, rendering it useless anyway.  Now, with water pooling against the foundation, my hand was forced.  It was time to finally address this eyesore.

This is the ENE side of the house, under a pine tree.  These factors limit my planting options, but it does make a good candidate for a shade garden.  First though, I needed to trench.  Re-purposing a concrete downspout extender, I could immediately channel the water about 4 feet.

better

But, this was still rather industrial and ugly, and tended to back up (the sump pump probably spits out about 3 gallons whenever it clicks on).  I needed a longer trench and ornamentation.  Mattock, shovel, axe, and reciprocating saw all contributed to the project (damn roots).  I then buried the pipe, planted the hosta which we saved from the apartment (split apart), added some ferns, purchased more hostas, and voila:

shade garden

I now have the beginnings of a respectable shade garden, and effective sump drainage.  Plus, the mason bees really like it.  I like those bees, they’re cute.

–Simon