Thank you, Circle of Life

Around noon yesterday, I spied a squirrel lying on the garage roof. Later in the afternoon, he was still there, in the exact same strange, awkward position - sprawled out flat, not moving. Mid-day, I wondered if he was resting, but by evening, I assumed he was dead.

When Don got home, it was already dark, so I told him that the next time we were both home in daylight hours (umm.... Thursday? Maybe Friday?), we would have to go get the thing off the roof. This would involve the ladder (fun!) and shovel. That shovel - which came with the house - has done its fair share of animal removal duties, including Gus the Groundhog and the presumably rabid (or just plain batty) squirrel that spent an entire day twitching itself ten feet across the driveway, driving the cat nutty.

But this morning, in daylight, the squirrel is gone. I'll bet our friendly neighborhood raccoons took care of it for us. Thanks, guys! You're finally good for something besides scaring the bejeezus out of us when we deign to enter the backyard in the evenings.

Update: Don says that he actually heard the raccoons fighting it out over the squirrel carcass. Yum.

It's Time to Play.... Name! That! Plant!!!

Every year about this time, I play a game I like to call Weed? or Sprout?. In the weeks (month?) since I planted dozens of new seeds in my front garden - dozens of things have begun to sprout. Add monsoon rains, a dash of sunshine, and some transplants are suffering, but other new seeds seem to be thriving.

I started with a freshly weeded bed, added a couple new bags of soil and topped everything with mulch.

But the fact that the rain has enabled them to grow makes me wonder. Like this one - is it an offshoot of an existing lily that somehow migrated 5 feet north? Or is it a really big weed?

Or this one? The spiky leaves either indicate marigolds (yay!) or unidentified weeds (boo!):
With all the rain - despite the beautiful weekend, everything was still soupy wet - I haven't had a chance to investigate further. But I'm sure when I do... I'm going to have a lot of weeding. Sigh.

Stadium Lights

We're gradually making energy-saving adjustments to our old, old house. The new windows have helped our energy efficiency (and comfort!) tremendously. But for the most part, the changes we make have been, well, free. Or taxpayer-funded.

The city has been giving out those snazzy CFL bulbs at nearly every city-sponsored event I've been to in the past year, from picnics to lectures. And if you happen to be present towards the end of the event, organizers tend to hand them out in pairs or triples, rather than packing them back up. Which leads me to believe that the city knocked off a truckload of bulbs bound for Chicago. After all, every single individually packaged bulb (how's that for green?) is printed with the seal of the City of Chicago and the Richard M. Daley, Mayor insignia. Sometimes they have a "City of Elgin" sticker slapped over the top, but not always.

Anyway, like good citizens we've been installing the new CFLs as the old incandescent bulbs burn out. We were even proactive and bought (ie, overpaid for) bulbs for the front porch lights two years ago, since they're the longest running lights in the house. (Though it should be noted that the first ones last a mere six days - apparently brownouts burn the bulbs, literally browning them. But the second pair bought the next week is on its third summer, running every night from sunset until 2 AM.)

We haven't noticed a huge difference in the energy bills, but (mercury concerns aside) we've been pretty diligent. However, the quality of the light is very different than that from incandescent bulbs. This isn't an issue outside, where more light better illuminated the drug deals that used to happen across the way, and the security lights from HALF A MILE ACROSS THE RIVER blare into our bedroom at night.

But in the living room, with first one, then two and now four CFLs spotlighting the couch from the overhead fixture, we're just about to buy some more incandescent bulbs. They're so bright - Don has compared them to stadium lights - that they prevent relaxing (read: napping). I've found Don stretched out on the couch watching tv with his hand shading his eyes from the glare.

So we're not going green for the sake of being green. Rather, a little bit of common sense must prevail. Though we'll continue to collect the bulbs at city events - I wonder if there's an aftermarket.

Tomato!

A quick happy thought:

Late last week, the monsoons (3.75" of rain in a single hour on Friday!) flooded most of my potted plants lining the driveway. Most of the pots lack drainage holes, so my fledgling cilantro, basil and oregano are gone. (The lettuce might still pull through.) However, my tomato plant gets the biggest, bestest pot that I borrowed from a fellow tenant many moons ago. This plant is thriving and today - in the hot sunshine - I even have the beginning of an actual tomato!


Luckily, I also started some basil indoors that is doing pretty well. I can't wait to make some fresh bruschetta. Really, the bruschetta makes the whole planting ordeal worth it.

Into the Void

Another irrational fear is the gaping holes under my floor vents. One of the joys of an old house is the giant (one square foot or even larger!) vents on floors throughout the house. The cat loves them - especially in winter - and will puff herself up and stretch out to cover absorb as much of the air as possible.

But I'm always afraid of the gaping canyon beneath the pretty, heavy iron grate coverings, especially in the upstairs bathroom. Last weekend, while vacuuming out the vents (a twice yearly chore), I had my usual qualms about what lies beneath. I'm assuming it goes straight down two stories to the furnace in the basement, with nothing to stop the freefall. I've dropped the occasional thing into the hole - an aspirin, a q-tip - but what if I dropped something important? Could I ever get it back? Has a previous resident ever dropped something?

With a deathgrip on my phone, I took a picture of the abyss. Do they make a wrist strap for cell phones?

Either way, I'm glad I cleaned out all the dust (and accumulated cat fur) - and I'm breathing easier.

Cutting Metal Past Midnight

When the auto body shop opened across the street last year, I was wary. I was skeptical. But then I was delighted.

Sure, they sell car stereos, alarms and a more varieties of rims than I ever knew existed. They serve as a meeting point and hangout for a large group of men who spend their free time customizing and polishing their cars and preparing for car shows. But they cleaned up the long-vacant property, are relatively friendly, and usually close up shop by 8 PM. During the day, yeah, we'll hear outbreaks of car alarms as they're testing stereo installations, and occasionally they install so much bass that the pictures on our walls rattle, but for the most part, they're pretty good neighbors. And, they installed so many cameras to protect their investment that they drove the previous, crack-dealing neighbors out of business.

Occasionally, prior to car shows, the guys will pull some late evenings. We'll see lights on until 9 or 10 PM and hear a bit of music as they're finishing their work. Last night, though, was awful. It's been a long week, with activities every night. I haven't had a quiet, spend-time-vegging-on-the-couch night in over a week. I got home from the city last night about 10, did a bit of cleanup, made lunch for today, and fell into bed around midnight. As soon as it was quiet, we realized it wasn't so. Across the street, we could hear grinding metal. It was loud and one of those piercing sounds that penetrates your skull. Sure, living right by the train, we're used to the late night train horns and the rumbling of the house as the 1:30 and 4:00 AM freight trains tear through town. But they're relatively quick sounds that I usually sleep through. But this sound was insane. We called the police non-emergency number and logged a complaint around 1 AM and were told it was a busy night but they would try to send a squad out. I fell into an uneasy sleep, tossing and turning. Around 3 AM, when a huge thunderstorm rumbled in, I got up to make sure it wasn't raining in, and there were still lights on across the street. The thunder was drowning out the worst of the grinding metal, thankfully.

It was an awful night's sleep, and I'm paying for it today. Next time, I'm going over there myself. The guys are pretty friendly and I would think if I wandered over at 2 AM and asked them to please, for the love of god, stop cutting metal, they would listen? Maybe?

Seriously?

Whoever invented cheap white laminate cabinets never actually cooked or used them for their intended purposes. Or he wore gloves at all times.

They show fingerprints so damn quickly, and get dirty around the corners just from daily use. We won't even realize we spilled something until a long, streaky, greasy stain appears and won't.go.away.

Plus, the cheap laminate chips away.

I've only been in this house three years and am pretty gentle with my cabinets - heck, we don't have kids - and they look worse for the wear. I can't IMAGINE what kids would do to them.

And don't get me started on the cheap handles. We've bought a least a dozen tubes of superglue just to replace the ugly ceramic "decorations."

Ants!

For the second season in a row, a whole colony of ants has appeared. I first noticed a few scouts in the kitchen, and now I've got a half dozen parading along the back of the counter at any given time.

Once again, the source is likely the giant ant hill in the middle of the back yard, about 18" in diameter. We killed it last year with a shaker can of anthill-specific chemicals and a good drowning. But now it's back.

How are the ants making it to the house? Do they have an intricate subterranean interstate system spanning the 20 feet from the anthill onramp to my kitchen? (Don't answer that.) If so, does destroying the anthill leave those tunnels intact? Or are they quick to rebuild, with thousands - or millions - of workers at their disposal?

A coworker recommended gasoline and a blowtorch to take out the hill once and for all. But I think I'll stick with my non-inferno-causing chemicals for now.

Inside, I completely scrubbed the inside of the affected cabinets, housing the caramelized Coke-encrusted recycling bin and laid fresh ant traps (specifically for "little black ants") throughout the cabinets and underneath the fridge. I also put one on the counter where I keep seeing them - and watched in amazement as five ants did about-faces to trek towards their deaths. I also noticed a tiny gap in the caulk around the window above the sink that seems to serve as their portal. I'll be tackling that this weekend.

But for now... I'm going to go kill more ants along the Little Black Ant Death March trail.

Hissing

I have a relatively active imagination, so I've spent every night for the past week wondering why there are now snakes living in my toilet tank. At least, that's what it sounds like. And what goes through my mind as I'm showering. Or trying to fall asleep.

The hissing started about a week ago, right after the city installed our new water meter. I've lifted the lid and there's no signs of leaking or continuously running water. Everything works fine.

It just hisses, constantly and quietly.

Should I be concerned, or only if it starts gurgling?

Maybe a Machete?

Our string trimmer died last year after a whole season of service. Rather than buy another cheap one, I started using hedge clippers to trim the grass along our retaining wall, where the lawnmower can't cut.

It's easy enough, and since the retaining wall lifts the lawn about 3 feet above the sidewalk. And the distance involved is short enough that I can knock it out in about 10 minutes.

But I can't help but wonder if a machete would be more effective. And a conversation piece for the neighbors.