#remember last time they had construction work done. remember how they removed their fence to make it easier for the workers to build their

[areyouwho-ithinkyouare]

how is it that our most-unbearable neighbours have been having construction work going on at their house for over a week , i’m talking cranes lifting materials into their garden kinda construction work, but none of us can see any changes to their house? are they purely doing all this to be annoyingly noisy?

[narrans]

One Shot | September Prompts

TWENTY-TWO | Canvas

The air was frigid. It had stopped actively snowing days ago, but the aftermath remained. There was nearly a foot of snow in the yard and along the roads beyond the Shelter’s doors. Icicles hung like frozen wind chimes along the gutters of the house. Every breath released a personalized cloud.

Hickory loved the snow. She loved the cold. It reminded her of winters with her family in the Old House. It was a glorious home. There were at least a dozen rooms that were unused for a large part of the year. There were massive pipes in the basement which heated the house and, unbeknownst to the human, the borrower’s home. The Old House belonged to an elderly couple with dozens of grandchildren. Every winter season, the entire human family would come into town and stay in the Old House. There were scattered treats and goodies from the children, leaving plenty of borrowings. There were a few close calls, as there usually were in the borrowing profession, but they had always managed to get away.

Hickory missed those winters snuggled among her sisters crocheting and sewing thicker and warmer blankets and garments so they could play in the snow. There were times when Hickory would just sit by the exit to the outside world and just watch the snow fall. With her borrower eyes, she could see the intricate designs in the snowflakes before they melted in her hands. She heard the humans say something about no two snowflakes being exactly the same, but how would they know with their clumsy hands and squinting eyes? There were many things humans said that Hickory did not understand, and the statement about snowflakes was one of them. Even now as she crouched in the branches of the hedges in the backyard staring at the snow frozen to the evergreen bristles, she could have sworn two of them were identical.

She couldn’t think about that now. Now, she had to focus. Her prey was nearby. Hickory spent time in the outside world hunting with her father and brother. In the chaos that ensued on the borrower doomsday, Hickory did not know what happened to her father and brother. She pushed the thought from her mind as quickly as it came. She couldn’t think about the way she would rustle her brother’s hair to annoy him when she brought back more kills than him. She couldn’t think about the smell of her father’s leather vest which he rarely removed. She could hear the skittering and crunching snow of a small creature. Based on experience, it was a mouse. Hickory smiled slyly. Her position above in the branches gave her the perfect vantage point. Both offensive and defensive.

She pulled her scarf and hood over her head, deepening her breath to calm her mind. She pulled out a bow she carved from wood last summer and nocked a toothpick arrow which she sharpened and added feathers to. She inhaled and held the nock until she could see the rodent a few feet away from her position. Hickory could only hear the beat of her heart as she drew back. Pause. She waited until the creature’s eyes turned outward to the snow before releasing. At least it saw something pretty before it died. The climb was quick, and the cleaning of the field mouse was thankfully uneventful. She left it hanging for a short while as she stared out at the winter wonderland before her. The tip of her nose dripped more than a leaky faucet and her fingers and toes were growing more numb with every moment of inactivity. It was time to go. After securing the cleaned mouse to her back, Hickory set off back toward the house.

The path was a clear one from the hedges to the fence row. Thankfully, the fence ran close to the house to a pathway she carved the night after the snow. From there, Hickory forced her freezing limbs to climb to the gutter drainpipe where she had set up a pulley system. She stepped onto the nail and gripped the rope tight before she yanked downward with all her might. Just as her feet left the ground, she leapt as high as she could and watched the world zoom around her. Within seconds, Hickory had reached the top gutter of the house, two stories up. The slick surface nearly made her loose her footing a few times, but she secured the rope with several well-done knots before shifting one of the roof tiles to the side and slipping into the house.

The heat blasted Hickory’s face, sending a frigid tingle through her body. The cold, apparently, was more intense than Hickory thought. Her body began to itch and tingle as it thawed. Every inch now felt suffocated with heat. Hickory began removing her hood and scarf as she walked along the beams of the attic. It was a nice place. Secluded. Rarely disturbed by humans and borrowers alike. Dark and light. Warm and cool. The ultimate home other than the basement. Well… almost the ultimate home. [NO!] Hickory trudged forward across the beams to her canvas tent near the edge of the roof.

The tent itself was only big enough for one, maybe two, borrowers. It was constructed from an old, cut canvas Hickory found and stitched together some time ago. It was fashioned into a loose tepee structure and was filled to the brim with the softest fragments of clothing she could find. She also acquired a full-sized match box which she turned into a crate for various borrowings she came across on her outings. Eyes fully adjusted, she struck a match she kept nearby and lit a low wick candle. Hickory knew the dangers of having an open flame, but she needed to cook the mouse meat and the light would be nice. Her battery powered lamp was running out of juice.

With mechanical speed, Hickory set up her spits and carved strips of meat to hang over the flame. Everything was perfectly timed from rotating the spits to each cut of meat. She knew the meat would most likely get crispy, but she didn’t want to cook outside when it was so cold. It was a hassle to set up a safe grill, even when it was outside. This would be fine. After the meat was cut, she cleaned the mouse pelt and used part of an unwound shoelace from her storage box to tie the stretched skin to a frame.

Satisfied with her work, Hickory shed her wet garments down to her undergarments and slipped into the tepee where her in-home bed clothing lay in a crumpled heap. She changed quickly and then spent time setting out her wet garments to dry along the base of the candle holder. The slightly charred meat was ready. Dinner in bed was a good way to end the day. She tugged the scraps of cloth over her shoulder and chewed the tough cut of meat she selected and stared at the flickering flame. Other than the occasional crackle, there was utter silence. Hickory didn’t mind silence, but she certainly didn’t care for it.

She was used to hearing the conversations of passing borrowers from inside the shelter. She enjoyed hearing Roman and Remus banter back and forth before discussing some issue or another with Thomas. She liked sitting in the vents during movie night and listening in to conversations. Even if she didn’t contribute to the conversation, she liked being a part of it. It still kept her mind occupied. Complete silence left her alone to fill the space with conversations she wished she could hear again. The debates between her parents about the borrowing schedule and who would go out when. The sweet teasing when her sisters couldn’t decide what borrowing bag went with their patchwork skirts. Her brother’s singing in the spaces between the halls. His voice ringing out against the tiled bathroom when the humans weren’t home because the sound was better and her voice singing along with his. Hickory curled in on herself. It was in these silent moments she thought of them – her family.

Hickory glanced outside of her canvas tent. Not a soul in sight. Not even the elusive cryptid borrower who was rumored to wander alone all throughout the house. She was alone. Completely and utterly alone. She thought of going to visit someone, which would be the first time she talked to anyone since she walked away from Ali that night. It wasn’t as though she didn’t have friends or others she could talk to other than her human counterpart. It was silly that she was feeling bad for a human after everything that had happened to her kind and her family. Why should she care? Why couldn’t she shake this pit eating at her insides? Hickory suddenly realized she had lost count of the days she was gone. Hickory rubbed her arms with her cupped hands as though trying to warm them or shake a chill.

Hickory’s thoughts fixated, much to her dismay, on Ali. The look on her face after Hickory shouted at her. The sadness in her brow. The frustration and hurt in her eyes just before she left. The way her voice trembled as she fought every instinct to collapse into tears. The longer she thought about it, the more that pit Hickory felt developed a name – guilt and regret. Hickory had to admit the things she said were intentional. She was angry and frustrated. She wanted something to be done about the children and saw Ali as the only hurdle. Yet, as much as she attempted to bring out every wrong thing Ali had done to justify Hickory’s actions, there was some counterpoint demonstrating Ali’s good intentions. Hickory finally admitted something to herself, something she knew all along but tried to distance herself from since the moment she met her. Hickory missed Ali.

She missed their conversations late into the night about the most ridiculous subjects. Hickory missed Ali’s awkward attempts at explaining certain human behaviors and items humans created. She missed the way Ali read aloud to her, using different voices for the characters to add to the story. She missed the way Ali would listen endlessly to Hickory’s day and the adventures she remembered from the Old House. She missed Ali’s laugh and her intuitive smile.

But what could she do about it now? Hickory’s eyes stung with the threat of tears. Ali had forgiven Hickory for practically everything she had done. From the compiled list of cuts and stabs to the frantic scares and pranks Hickory had pulled, Hickory could rely on the fact that Ali would forgive her; but never before had Hickory cut Ali this deep. The intentional wound Hickory dealt that night could have been the final nail in the coffin. What was Ali thinking of her now? Was she even thinking about her? Did she care?

It took a few more hours of solitude to solidify Hickory’s resolve. She had to go back. Hiding wasn’t going to solve anything and Hickory concluded that there was no sense prolonging the inevitable. If Ali was still mad and didn’t want to see her again, she would have to live with it. If Ali was willing to forgive her, this gnawing guilt would be gone, and things could go back to the way they were. At least, Hickory hoped things could go back to normal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was her day off, finally. Ali had spent the past week and a half pulling double shifts from her shift as an EMT and assisting the newly formed borrower families in attaining supplies and adjusting to their new lives. Many families stepped forward and graciously opened their hearts and homes to the children. A few families managed to find their children, but that number, sadly, was not higher. Ali had only heard earlier that day that Patton and Virgil had adopted two of the kids, one teenager and one much younger. Ali hoped they were adjusting well, as she hoped for all of the other families.

The little girl, Vi or Violet as she eventually learned, had regained consciousness, but was still very weak and adjusting to her new life. She hadn’t spoken but was willing to communicate with head nods and shakes on how she was feeling. Axel hadn’t left her side once since that time. For now, they were staying with Perci. It was a temporary arrangement as Perci was more solitary, but she was willing to help where she could. Also, Perci was one of the borrowers who was willing to bring Violet by Ali’s room so she could check and see how her wound was progressing since Perci had limited experience with potential infections. Thankfully, Violet didn’t seem to mind the fact Ali was human.

Ali slept in, well past the morning, for the first time in a while before spending the rest of the afternoon reading quietly to herself. She was rereading a personal favorite as a means to relax. The house, chilled by the winter and snow, was perfectly still. Numerous blankets were piled onto Ali’s bed, providing the perfect amount of warmth.

She had just made it to the halfway point when she heard the familiar click of the electrical cover open and close. She averted her eyes instinctively and stared instead at the canopy above her head. The gossamer curtains shimmered in the ambient lighting in the room provided by the nightstand light and Christmas lights. It wasn’t until she heard her name that her blood chilled in her veins and her body tensed nervously.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hickory knew she was nervous. She could tell by the slight tingle in her fingers and the shiver in her spine that lingered even as she climbed down from the attic. She hadn’t been nervous about being seen by a human in a long time, and she knew why she was nervous now. One step after the other made a rhythmic tapping sound against the floor. She ducked under some wires and climbed a few stray nails to avoid some of the venting pipes. The wood beam lined walls and insulation absorbed the sounds of the chilled house. Still, a few stray laughs caught her attention from up ahead. It seemed like one of the families from the corner apartments had some new children. [They must be the children. That happened already?] Hickory couldn’t think about that now.

She trudged forward and scurried up the last set of ladders until she reached that same familiar corridor leading to Ali’s room. Now that she stood at the doorway, face cast in shadow except for the warm glow slipping through the electrical cover holes. The light rested just over her eyes, making her squint. This much light in the room meant the side lamp next to the bed was on and that Ali was indeed in the room. Before she could hesitate, Hickory pushed open the cover with the familiar click and stepped out onto the desk. She closed it behind her.

She didn’t remember when her knees became so unsteady or when her heart began beating so harshly against her chest. Hickory could see Ali behind the gossamer curtain which draped over the edges of her bed forming an elegant canopy. Breath unsteady, Hickory willed herself to the edge of the desk as she pushed past the nervousness in her core. Curses. Could she do this? Ali wasn’t even looking in her direction. Was that already a sign? Nerves fraying as she tried to talk herself into leaving, what last bit of self-control Hickory still possessed called out.

“Ali?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ali wasn’t sure if she had imagined it, but she had to look. She had to be sure. Ali turned over slowly to spot a familiar silhouetted figure standing on the desk. It was Hickory. Ali watched as Hickory, seemingly hyping herself up, walked briskly from the desk along the edge of the wall and the bridge to her nightstand, only slowing once she had passed the bedside lamp. The brisk pace, which conveyed determination and resolve, quickly melted into a timid hesitancy. Hickory’s shoulders were tense, just like Ali’s shoulders. Hickory wasn’t making eye contact, despite Ali’s attempts at catching those mischievous orbs for some sort of insight into Hickory’s thoughts. Ali slowly crossed her legs underneath of her as she faced Hickory, who now seemed to be trembling slightly.

For a week and a half, Ali had neither seen nor heard from her tiny companion. She had been worried for her safety and reluctant to press her luck by seeking her out. She was apprehensive as to what Hickory might do on her own. Ali was also concerned and deeply saddened that she may not see Hickory again. She was elated that Hickory was standing there in front of her and in once piece, unharmed. Yet, mixed into that elation, was a numbing shock. All of these emotions pent up over the past week seemed suddenly blurred and void. Now, when it mattered most, Ali wasn’t sure how she should be feeling. Based on her silence, Hickory didn’t seem sure how to proceed either.

Even though she was unsure, Hickory beat Ali to the punch. “I… I didn’t mean… I just… wanted to say… I’m sorry.” Hickory’s words were not stammered, but rather seemed to be pieced together on the fly, like she couldn’t get her own thoughts and emotions in order. She maintained eye-contact with the edge of the bedside table, as if looking at Ali would bring down a bolt of lightening to smite her.

“I said what I said because I was… angry… and confused… and frustrated. I know… you and the others were doing everything you could. That doesn’t excuse what I said to you, especially in front of the others. It was mean and cruel and I know I don’t…” [Deserve it. I don’t deserve your kindness. You’ve been nothing but kind and this is how I’ve repaid you.] Hickory couldn’t bring herself to sputter out her internal thoughts fast enough. All this time, Hickory tried speaking clearly, yet her voice had gone unused and sounded hoarse and raspy. She tried clearing her throat, but that only made her feel more anxious at how Ali was perceiving her actions. “I crossed a line. A lot of them actually. I know I don’t… deserve it. But…”

Hickory, even in her peripheral, could see Ali’s eyebrows raise for just a moment, as if to say, ‘you think?’. Hickory winced, her shoulders pinching in toward her chest. An intense tingling rippled through her lungs and her chest, a sure sign she was going to get choked up if she didn’t hurry. Hickory glanced up into Ali’s eyes. They were illuminated by the ambient lighting, yet lacked their signature brightness. Ali’s features were set in a mixture of neutrality and patience. Hickory found it hard to swallow her nervousness, but managed to choke out one last thing before realizing if she pressed herself further, she would probably start crying.

“But… I want to come home.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ali felt herself inhale slowly, the breath hitching like a silent stutter in her lungs. She could detect no deceit in Hickory’s voice. It took a lot for Hickory to say what she did. She wasn’t into sharing too many of her true feelings after all. It took a lot of courage to come from relative safety and admit you made a creature hundreds of times bigger than yourself upset. It was a big move, no pun intended, for Hickory to come. Hickory admitted that what she said was wrong and that she was sorry. Hickory hadn’t stayed away. She came. She was here. She was alive. After everything that happened in their shared past, Hickory was asking to return. All of these things were as good of a sign as any that this moment mattered more than ever. It was the tipping point.

Ali, trapped in her thoughts for what felt like an hour, smiled meekly and nodded slowly.

“Okay.” Ali hadn’t realized her own throat had constricted with emotion during Hickory’s apology. “You’re home.” Hickory half sobbed, half laughed as she exhaled and wrapped her arms around herself in a comforting hug.

“But…” Ali continued, which froze Hickory in her moment of relief. Ali paused as she bit her lower lip. She knew she had to be careful and proceeded as such. “There are some things that I want to say. You don’t have to say anything, but I do want you to listen and hear me out until the end. Okay?” Hickory seemed unsure. She seemed to be teetering on the edge of running into the embrace of sadness or leaping from elation. Instead, she nodded almost imperceptibly. Ali braced herself with a single breath before continuing, speaking slowly and clearly.

“I’m not mad, or angry, or frustrated. Not anymore. Admittedly when you said those things to me, I was very angry and upset. I shouldn’t have walked away the way I did, and I apologize for that, but I didn’t know what else to do.” Ali looked to Hickory who, once again, was staring at the most interesting bedside table edge she had ever seen, refusing to meet Ali’s eyes.

“What you said to me was… cruel… and deliberate. It was meant to hurt me, and it did. I get it. You were scared and frustrated and angry, I know. I was too. I still am.” Ali felt the weight on her chest lifting, though her heart pulsed with pain with every beat. “Still, I don’t think I deserved being hurt like that.” Hickory nodded absent-mindedly. She seemed to be absorbing everything well enough, honouring Ali’s request of hearing her out until she finished. Ali continued to keep her voice even and calm.

“What you said about me not knowing what you’ve been through. You’re right. You are absolutely right. I don’t know every little thing you’ve been through. I don’t know exactly how you feel. That doesn’t mean that I can’t sympathize with you. It doesn’t mean that I can’t try to understand your perspective. But you know what?” Ali was beginning to find it difficult to keep her voice from quaking. “That also means that you don’t know how I feel. You don’t know every little thing about me. We’ve shared a lot with each other, Hickory, but there are things we keep for ourselves – and that’s okay – but that doesn’t mean we shut the other person out because we don’t have an exact scenario to match the other’s pain.”

Tears gathered in the corners of Ali’s eyes, mirroring Hickory’s reddening eyes.

“I know we didn’t meet under the greatest of circumstances, but since that day I have tried everything I could to see the world through your eyes. I’ve tried to help and listen the best that I could. Sometimes, I had to learn the hard way. I certainly have enough souvenirs to prove it.” Hickory glanced to Ali’s hands, noticing for the first time that her right hand was covered in band-aids and scabs from where Hickory had assaulted her hand with her pin. Hickory looked away guiltily, knowing that the current damage to Ali’s hand was only a small fraction of what Hickory inflicted on her human companion. “I know that you didn’t want to keep going after I found you, and maybe you think I took your choice from you. I don’t know. Maybe I did. All I know is this Hickory – I wouldn’t change my decisions for a second.”

Hickory’s attention snapped to Ali’s eyes. Ali had stopped her that day – or, to be better put – Ali had helped her realize that, for whatever reason, she wanted to live.  

“Hickory, I wouldn’t change any of my choices because they’ve made both of us into who we are, right here and now. We’ve both done a lot of growing up in a short amount of time. I know I couldn’t have done that without you. I’d take it all again in a heartbeat because I care about you, and that’s not going to change – ever.” Ali and Hickory held their gaze, each seeming to feel those darkened thoughts and feelings which they locked away and kept contained breaking free, releasing those unnamable feelings and re-forging a way back to one another.

“I don’t think it’s fair to pin all of these feelings of anger and frustration for all of humankind on me. I’m not perfect, but I cannot accept the blame for every single thing the humans have done.” stated Ali softly. “But you know what? You can’t accept that blame either.” Hickory felt herself stiffen and glanced away.

“It’s not on you that the borrowers were discovered. You’re not to blame for the doomsday that happened. It’s not your fault that your family was found; and it’s certainly not your fault for what happened to them.” Hickory felt herself scowl and bristle at Ali’s words. She half-glared at Ali. Something about what she was saying was getting to her, making her heartbeat faster and her breathing shallow. “It’s that scum of the earth that did those things. Why are you blaming yourself for what someone else did? It’s not your fault.” Ali fell quiet while Hickory processed what she was feeling. Hickory poorly stifled a moist sniff and wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve.

“I know,” she muttered, keeping her eyes averted.

“No… no you don’t. Hickory, it’s not your fault.” Said Ali firmly. Well, firm for Ali anyway. Hickory watched Ali’s hand hesitantly inching toward the bedside table.

“I know,” Hickory said, replying in the same tone.

“It’s not your fault.” Somehow hearing it out loud, saying it out loud, was sinking into Hickory’s subconscious. Was this what she had been feeling all this time? Had she been feeling responsible? Responsible for what the humans did to her? To her family? Saying, out loud, that it wasn’t her fault cracked that final lock to those unnamable emotions. Cheeks warm and eyes burning, Hickory realized tears were lining her face. She tried hiding it by covering her face with her arm. When that didn’t work, she covered her face with her hands. Ali’s expression changed from careful neutrality to a pensive smile. Ali’s hand was mere inches from the edge of the bedside table.

“It’s not your fault,” said Ali gently. Ali was right. It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t the fault of anyone in the Shelter. The outside world was just as messed up as it always had been; so why was she wasting time blaming herself? Hickory sobbed into her hands. She felt a slight tapping by the edge of the table. It was Ali’s finger, showing her that she was there – showing her she was always there. Hickory lost the fight with herself and ran forward. Ali’s hand raised just as Hickory came smashing into it. Hickory wrapped her right arm in the notch between Ali’s thumb and index finger and pressed her face against the edge of Ali’s palm as she sobbed. She felt Ali’s fingers gently close around her, barely brushing against her shoulders while her thumb rubbed her side comfortingly. Hickory’s vision may have been blurred from the warm, salty tears pouring down her face, but even she could see that Ali had begun crying too. Ali was nowhere near sobbing her eyes out, but at least Hickory wouldn’t be the only one with red, puffy eyes.

Hickory felt Ali’s hand rotate slightly, allowing Hickory to lay along Ali’s palm. She didn’t fight it and allowed Ali to lift her from the table to just below Ali’s left shoulder. Hickory turned and grasped the fabric of Ali’s shirt. Ali did not remove her hand, keeping it gently placed around her frame so she wouldn’t fall. It was the closest to a “forgive me” hug they could achieve given their height differences.

“Ali, I’m so sorry!” wailed Hickory, her voice coming out as a wet, muffled mess since her face was still pressed into Ali’s shirt. “Do… do y… you forgive me?” Hickory felt Ali’s shoulders shake in a disbelieving laugh.

“I forgave you the moment you said it,” she muttered. “I was so scared, Hickory. I thought I’d never see you again. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

For a time, the two could only choke out random murmurs and half-hearted sobs. It was a long and arduous road, but nothing worth having comes easily. They realized that now. The air cleared. The moments passed. Now, the baggage between them was scattered to the wind.

After they calmed their breathing, Ali tilted her palm and pulled it away about a foot away. Hickory sat contentedly on the edge and continued to wipe her eyes on the cleaner parts of her clothing.

“So? What now?” sniffed Hickory with a thoughtful smirk. Ali mirrored the smile.

“Well… I think,” she started as she wiped her eyes with her unoccupied left hand. “We start with a clean slate.” Hickory rolled her eyes and brought one leg over the other, crossing them.

“Why is it called a clean slate? Who uses slates anymore? We’re not ancient dead people,” remarked Hickory snarkily. Ali chuckled breathily, bringing a rush of warmth to Hickory. She hadn’t realized how much she missed Ali’s smile and laugh. “Think about it! A slate is a big, ugly rock you carve into. You can’t just get rid of that. That’s too much work.”

“No, we’re not. And that’s definitely true. I guess… It’s just an expression. Did you have something else you’d like to call it?” Hickory thought for a moment.

“How about a blank canvas? Canvas is a lot easier to paint over. Plus, painting is more fun than rocks.” Ali thought for a moment but nodded in agreement.

“Okay. We’ll be a blank canvas.”

“Does this mean we have to re-introduce ourselves?” asked Hickory. Ali shook her head.

“No, we get to keep that on our canvas.”

“Darn it,” Hickory cursed slightly, a mischievous smile flashing over her lips. Ali’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I wanted to introduce myself as Little Hickey. Then, you could introduce me as your Little Hickey.” Ali’s jaw dropped as she stared to the ceiling for some unspoken guidance before she covered her eyes with her left hand. Her shoulders shook violently as she suppressed her urge to burst out laughing.

“I’m not doing that,” said Ali in playful defiance.

“Fiinnnee!” whined Hickory. They stared at each other for a moment. “So, what do we do with our blank canvas now?” It was Ali’s turn to think for a moment.

“Well, how about we get ourselves cleaned up, maybe with separate bubble baths? Then I’m off for the evening so we can just sit and watch movies or read. If you want to that is.” Hickory nodded. She had gone one too many days without bathing and watching movies for hours sounded nice. Ali set Hickory onto her shelf so she could fetch some clean clothes while Ali ran a sink full and a tub full of warm water, placing the necessary precautions and washcloths in place for Hickory. Ali returned after a minute to see Hickory waiting patiently. Though emotions were still raw, the tension from before their canvas was cleaned had dissipated. It would take time, but things were better now. At the very least, they were on the right track – finally. Ali held out her hand and Hickory leapt on, carefully walking along Ali’s arm to her rightful place on Ali’s right shoulder.

Ali grabbed her shower basket and headed into the bathroom, securing the door behind them. Hickory knew they were both still raw. She knew there were still things that may have been left unsaid or untouched, but the subconscious resentment toward Ali and the other humans seemed to have vanished, another shadow leaving to never darken her mind again. Hickory mauled each and everything Ali said as she scrubbed away a week’s worth of grime. After they bathed in silence, they took turns dressing, averting their eyes out of politeness, and headed back to Ali’s room. Something stirred in Hickory. She stood on Ali’s shoulder just as they were about to settle back into Ali’s bed.

“Hey Ali.” Before Ali could turn her head toward her right shoulder, Hickory stood and tugged on Ali’s ear. She winced.

“Ow, what was that for? What did I do?” she asked pointedly. Hickory folded her arms and stared at Ali sassily even though she knew Ali couldn’t quite see her from her perspective.

“That was for picking me up without asking when we first met,” stated Hickory. Ali sighed and shook her head.

“Fine. That’s fair. But that’s the only one you get.”

“Hey Ali.” Ali flinched at the sound of her name and tilted her head to the side. “Come ‘ere.” Ali was suspicious but leaned her head back over to Hickory. This time, however, Hickory rushed forward and planted a quick kiss on Ali’s cheek. It was like having a light feather brush over her cheek. It was soft and so subtle Ali almost didn’t realize it had happened. “That’s for everything you’ve done for me since then.” Ali stood stunned for several moments, absorbing the moment, before sighing.

“Did you just, ‘How to Train Your Dragon,’ me?” she asked. Hickory rolled her eyes and sat down on Ali’s shoulder, gripping her shirt collar firmly.

“Just hush and let’s pick out a movie!”

They spent the rest of the evening in silence as they watched film after film. At some point, Hickory and Ali fell asleep, each lulled by the other’s breathing and unable to keep their weary eyes open. It had been a rough afternoon. It had been a rough week if they were being completely honest. Now their friendship, re-forged, was stronger than ever – and Heaven help anyone who tried to separate them.

[omgjasminesimone]

Tequila Sunrise Part III

Previous Part: Part II

Next Part: Part IV

Logan x MC

Author’s Note: Part III, one more part after this. I’m going to try to get the last part up by Friday.

Summary: 10 years have passed since Logan and Ellie last saw each other. Emotions run high when they spend the night together in a small hut in Puerta Vallarta, Mexico.  

Rating: NSFW (which I’ve never done before, so if it’s terrible be gentle)

Word Count: 3397

Ellie tugs Logan over to the bed, releasing their intertwined fingers and pushing him so he sits on the edge. He reaches for her, and she straddles his lap. He kisses down her neck, over her collar bone, starts tugging at her borrowed shirt.

She pulls away, standing out of his reach now. “I want to be in charge tonight.” She informs him.

“That works for me.” He leans back on his hands, watching her with lust as she slowly peels off the white shirt, tossing it at him playfully. He catches it, tosses it to the side as his eyes roam over her full breasts spilling out of her lacy black bra, down to her toned stomach, stopping his perusal at her matching black thong. He reaches for her again, but she sidesteps.

“I told you to be good.” Ellie chastises.  

“You know I can’t.” Logan replies. “Your breasts, they’re bigger.” He comments.

“I started taking birth control in college and they grew.” She unhooks her bra, allowing it to fall to the floor. She crouches between his legs, tugging his pajama pants and boxers down in one motion. “Do you like them?” She asks, taking his quickly stiffening penis in her hand and allowing the head to trail down the valley between her breasts.

“Yes.” He chokes out before she gets on her knees and takes him into her mouth. His hands clench in his sheets. “Fuck Ellie.”

She’s never given him head before. He’s surprised how good she is at it. He gathers her hair into a ponytail, guiding her movements as she sucks and licks at him. He throws his head back, closing his eyes in ecstasy. “Ellie, stop…I’m going to…” He tries to warn her. She doesn’t move, gripping his thighs and swirling her tongue around him.

He comes in her mouth with a groan, releasing her hair. She swallows, wiping her mouth on her arm. He flops down onto the bed, feeling drained but extremely satisfied. “Lose the shirt.” She orders. He quickly obliges, tossing his shirt to the floor. He removes his boxers and pajama pants from around his ankles, leaving him bare.  

 She climbs on top of him, straddling his stomach. He can feel how wet she is through her soaked panties.

He reaches to his nightstand for a condom, but she grips his wrist to stop him. “I want to do stuff we’ve never done before tonight. Including having sex without a condom.” She kisses his abs, his chest, his neck. “I want to feel all of you. Don’t worry I’m on birth control.” She’s about to kiss him on the lips but stops. “Are you opposed to kissing after head?” She asks.

He captures her lips, slipping his tongue into her mouth. “I’m never opposed to a kiss from you.” He replies when he pulls away several moments later.

She smiles, kissing him again. He reaches for her panties, trying to tug them down, but she smacks his hand away. “What part of I’m in charge do you not understand?”

“Sorry.” He apologizes, laying back and letting her take control. “So, when you say things we haven’t done, is everything on the table?” He asks.

She guides his fingers between her legs. He pushes her underwear to the side and sticks two fingers inside of her. He groans when he feels how wet and ready for him she is, pumping his fingers faster as she begins to writhe over him.

“What are you...ooohh…asking for?” She questions, biting down on her lip when he finds that spot she likes, moaning loudly.

“Anal.” He responds, removing his fingers before she can come. Before she can complain, he sits up, kissing her shoulder blade. His kisses trail lower, over her breasts. He takes her right nipple into his mouth, biting lightly. He teases her other nipple with his thumb, not stopping until they are both rock hard.

“Can I take these off yet?” He tugs at the waistband of her panties. She nods, and he quickly pulls that last barrier off her, leaving her in all her naked glory before him.

“You’re incredible Ellie.”

“You should get some new lines.” She teases.

He smirks, “But that one always works. And you didn’t answer my question.”

She wraps her arms around his shoulders. “Usually, I don’t like anal. But maybe it will be better with you. So sure, it’s on the table.” She maneuvers her knees over his shoulders, reaching between his legs to guide him into her.

This is so different from their previous times together. She’s so confident now, and it’s such a turn on.  

“Fuck, you feel incredible.” He stammers out, slowly thrusting inside of her, his pace quickening as he’s encouraged by her breathy moans.

“I’m going to buy you a thesaurus.” She promises, rolling her hips in time with his thrusts.

Logan laughs, gripping the back of her neck and pulling her into a sloppy kiss.

“Faster, Logan.” Ellie demands, looping her ankles together on his back to stay in place as he quickens the pace.

He grips her hips, angling her so he can push in deeper. He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back into her roughly. She grips his biceps tightly, probably leaving bruises, but he doesn’t care. He’s so close, the sensations overwhelming, but he wants her to come first. “I love you Ellie, so much.” He confesses.

“I love you too Logan. I still love you.” They kiss frantically, almost desperately, trying to convey to the other emotions that have built up over the last ten years of missing one another.  

He lets his right hand drop from her hip, reaching between them and circling his thumb around her clit. “Oh Logan, yes.” She whispers. He feels her walls tightening around him as she comes undone, shuddering almost violently at the strength of her orgasm. He pumps into her a few more times before he stops suddenly, emptying inside of her.

Her legs fall from his shoulders, and they both flop down onto the bed. They both rest for a few moments, exchanging no words but some soft touches and kisses.

He kisses her forehead. “Are you tired?” He asks.

She climbs back on top of him. “No, we’re just getting started.”

…

..

.

Ellie relaxes, her head on his chest as she listens to his strong and steady heartbeat, slowing down to its normal pace now after their strenuous activities. Logan has lost track of how many times they’ve had sex tonight. He just knows he’s extremely satisfied, and so in love with her. He winces when he sees that there some’s light streaming through his window, the morning coming and the inevitable end to this reunion along with it.

She traces some of the familiar scars on his side. Most from the car accident that should have killed him, but others from street fights, jumping spiked fences, and other illegal activity. She traces a fully healed bullet wound over his right hip.

“You didn’t have this last time I saw you.”

“I robbed a bank in Panama.” He thinks back to when this happened. “Three years ago, I think? Maybe four? The cops shot me as I ran to the car.”

“Is the bullet still in there?” She asks.

“No, there’s an exit wound in my back. Went straight through. Hurt like a bitch. And I couldn’t go to the hospital without getting arrested, so a friend had to take care of it for me.”

“Are you still robbing banks Logan?” Ellie asks, trying to sound nonconfrontational. She hopes he’s not. She worries about him.

“No, I’m not doing anything illegal anymore Ellie. Besides racing. I’m still doing that. But almost bleeding out on my friend’s kitchen floor was a wake-up call. I’m doing construction now mostly. Some auto repairs on the side.”

She kisses the wound tenderly. “I’m glad to hear that. So, Florida, Ohio, Arizona, Texas, Australia, Panama…” She lists. “Where else have you been since Los Angeles?” She asks, turning her gaze up to his blue eyes.

“I came to Mexico after Panama. First Tijuana, but that was a little too close to the border which made me nervous. So, I didn’t stay there long. I lived in Mexico City for almost a year. Then Cancun. And I’ve been here in Puerta Vallarta for almost a year now. I’ll probably move on soon.”

“That’s a lot of moving around.” Ellie comments.

“That’s what happens when you’re on the run. Where are you now? Did you stay on the East Coast after college?” Logan asks.

“I went back to Los Angeles for two years. But then my job transferred me to San Francisco so that’s where I’ve been for the last four years. Pretty boring compared to your adventures.”

“If you want to call them that.” Logan mutters, before changing the subject. “I remember this one” He gently traces the small quill and ink tattoo on her shoulder, “but this is new.” His hand moves to just above her rib cage on her right side, where she has a small palm tree tattoo. She glances down at the brown and green tattoo.

“I got that the summer after my freshman year before heading back to Langston. I wanted to remember where home is.” She pauses, looking like she’s debating telling him something.

“What?” He prompts.

“Colt actually has a matching one. We got them together. We dated that summer.”

He had been tracing the tattoo absentmindedly, but that information immediately makes him stop. He feels himself getting angry, thinking about Colt being with his girl. And putting her in danger by associating with her in the first place. And all this while he was stuck in Ohio trying to make sure the FBI believed she had just been an informant with no lingering connection to the gang life.

The only thing keeping him somewhat calm is the knowledge that she’s here lying naked in his arms right now, so whatever was going on with Colt is obviously over.

“Sorry the relationship didn’t work out for you guys.” He responds, trying to sound indifferent.

Ellie laughs, slowly walking her fingers up his chest. “No, you’re not.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m not. So, what broke you up?” He must be some kind of masochist. He really doesn’t need to know any of the details. Unless she’s going to say Colt is bad in bed, like Trent. That he would like to know.

“I think ultimately I changed, but he didn’t.” Ellie responds after thinking about it for a moment. She glances up into his eyes again, sees the anger he’s trying not to express. “Don’t be mad. He was the only one I could really talk to. The only one who understood.” She explains.

“I’m not mad.” He insists, but his denial must be unconvincing because she rolls her eyes.

“I got a tattoo for you too.” She confesses. She puts her left hand in front of his face. There, on the inside of her ring finger, is a small black spark plug. “The day after you left, I went out to the tattoo parlor and got this.” His gaze meets her’s, smiling softly. His heart feels like it might burst with the knowledge that she tattooed something that reminded her of him on her ring finger. Obviously, he wasn’t the only one back then with daydreams of marriage and honeymoons and babies.

Logan grips her wrist, turning her hand so he can inspect the tattoo. “Your fiancé must have hated that.”

Ellie laughs, pulling her hand back. “You have no idea. He also hated that I keep your necklace on my rear-view mirror.”

“You still have it?”

She looks offended that he would even ask. “Of course I still have it. That was important to you. It meant a lot, you giving it to me.” She stretches, sitting up. “I’m sticky. I’m going to take a shower.”

Logan sits up too. “I’ll join you. The hot water is kind of tricky, so I’ll show you.”

Ellie stands, gripping his hand as he gets out of the bed as well. “You know, we’ve never had shower sex before.”

Logan pushes some of her hair out of her face, where it’s sticking to a light sheen of sweat. “You’re insatiable.” He teases.

She grins, tugging him into the bathroom.

…

..

.

Logan is still sleepy when the sun coming through his curtains wakes him. He glances at his clock to discover it’s 9:00 AM, meaning he only got about 3 hours of sleep. But he didn’t mean to fall asleep at all, he wants to cherish every second he has with Ellie. He glances down at the woman sleeping soundly in his arms, kissing her forehead softly. He wants to stay in bed with her forever. He wishes he could freeze this moment, keep her forever in a world where it doesn’t matter that he’s wanted by the FBI and she has a job and a life to get back to in San Francisco.  

He knows he has to let her go, again, and that it’s going to be just as hard to do as it was the first time. He should start by physically removing his arms from around her now. He allows himself 5 more minutes to hold her in his arms before he carefully replaces his chest with the pillow, scooting out carefully so as not to wake her. He throws on a pair of denim jeans before closing the bedroom door softly behind him.

He heads to the kitchen and looks through his fridge. Usually, it’s pretty barren but luckily for him he took his elderly neighbor Sra. Sanchez grocery shopping last week and she insisted in paying him back for his kindness with groceries.

He gets to work on bacon, eggs, and toast.

As he’s frying the eggs, a pair of arms wrap around him from behind. He smiles, twisting slightly to drop a kiss to the top of her head. “Good morning beautiful.”

She’s thrown his white t shirt back on, and nothing else. He tries not to fantasize about seeing her like this every morning, knowing that he won’t. That he can’t. He turns back to the food, and she gently traces the bullet exit wound on his lower back. She’s so gentle, that he feels tears welling up in his eyes.

Eventually she steps away. “That smells amazing.”

“You hungry?” He asks, flipping the eggs and then turning off the coffee maker which has long since stopped bubbling.

“I am, but I’m supposed to meet my friends for brunch.”

He’s surprised by how disappointed he is that they won’t be sitting around his small table, having breakfast like a normal non-star-crossed couple. He shakes his head, telling himself to get a grip. He really shouldn’t be playing house with her anyway. It’s just going to hurt worse, when she’s gone.

“How about some coffee then? We didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Ellie smiles. “Coffee sounds great.”

They settle on his couch with their coffee, his food on the small coffee table in front of them. She can’t help but take a few bites of his food, but when he offers her her own plate she refuses. “I’ve been told the brunch place we’re going to makes the best sweet bread in Mexico, so I have to save room.”

“Are you saving room for mimosas too? Or were all those tequila sunrises sufficient?” He teases.

“I’ll definitely be having mimosas. And tequila sunrises too if they have them. I love those things. Hey, do you want to join us for brunch? Riya would love to see you again. And you can meet my other friends too.”

“How would you explain who I am?” He questions.

“They all know who you are. I talk about you all the time.” Ellie responds.

“Then they know I’m running from the FBI.” Logan replies.

“Oh, yeah, there’s that.” Ellie says, dejected.

He takes her hand in his, gently tracing the sparkplug on her ring finger. “After such a great night, it’s easy to forget the reality of our situation. That I’m on the run. That you could never introduce me to your friends. That your Dad would probably try to shoot me if I ever saw him again. That you could go to jail just for associating with me.” He pauses, meeting her watery gaze. “That we’ll probably never see each other again after I drop you off at the restaurant where you’re having brunch.” He concludes.  

She cups his cheeks, forcing him to look into her eyes. “That’s not what I want Logan. I want you. I don’t care if we have to move every year. I don’t care if I can’t go back to the States. You’re enough.”

He gently removes her hands, shaking his head. “Ellie, you don’t mean that. You have a life in San Francisco.”

“No, I have a job in San Francisco. Where I work in a cubicle between my ex-fiancé and his mistress. I don’t even like my job Logan.”

“But you like your friends. And being in the same State as your Dad. And your freedom. You’d be harboring a criminal Ellie. I can’t do that to you. I have to stay away from you.”

Ellie swallows as she accepts that hard truth. Nothing has changed from ten years ago. They still love each other, but as proof that he loves her he has to never see her again. Tears silently fall down her cheeks and he gathers her into his arms, fighting back his own tears. They stay that way for quite a while, neither of them saying anything.

The tranquility is interrupted by her ringing phone. She reluctantly pulls away from him, heading to the bedroom to answer it.

Once she’s gone, he wipes at his eyes furiously. Angry at himself for hoping, for wanting, for not being strong enough to stop anything from happening between them last night. She’s under his skin now, and it will probably be another ten years before he’s even close to being ok with losing her. Again.

She comes back into the room, her gold dress neatly folded under her arm. “Do you have anything I could wear? This dress isn’t really brunch appropriate.”

He nods, walking past her into his bedroom. He grabs a Panama Canal tourist t-shirt he bought when he visited and black basketball shorts with a drawstring she can tighten. He hands her the clothes wordlessly, and she changes into them in front of him. He tries to memorize everything about her body, about her in general. She hands him back his white t shirt. He throws it onto his bed instead of in the dirty clothes hamper. He won’t wash it until it doesn’t smell like her anymore. He throws on a white t-shirt.

He intertwines their fingers as he leads her outside to his Ford F-150 truck.

“Where’s your Devore GT?” Ellie questions.

“Stashed it in Detroit.” Logan answers.

They ride to the restaurant in silence, both lost in their own thoughts.

They arrive before either of them are ready. He parks the car, and immediately pulls her into his lap, kissing her forcefully. He leaves her lips and kisses the tears sliding down her cheeks. His own eyes are watering, but he fights to not let the tears fall. “Forget me this time, Troublemaker.”

“I can’t. I won’t.” She promises, gripping his neck and pulling his lips back to her’s. Their lips are slightly swollen when they finally pull away from each other.

Ellie climbs back into her own seat, rubbing at her eyes to try to make herself look more presentable before meeting with her friends. She takes a deep breath to compose herself, looks at Logan one last time, and steps out of the truck.

…

..

.

 taglist:  @choicesarehard @ifyouseekheart @brightpinkpeppercorn @powdesiree0816 @regina-and-happiness @choicelogansbitch @flyawayboo @fairydustandsarcasm @alesana45 @umiumichan @maxwellsquidsuit @professorortegasstudent @god-save-the-keen @mrsmckenziesworld @paisleylovergirl

[leonarsfrey1991]

How To Grow A Grape Vine In A Greenhouse Marvelous Cool Ideas

Always remember, that learning the ropes on how to grow grapes if you live in.If the earth actually enter the flavor of whatever materials you have the right fertilizers to make the vines is what you'll construct the trellis before going and purchasing it.Grape vines also successfully grow grapes!A trellis system will need to learn the basics with any hobby is always done before you add nutrients to the making of alcoholic beverages came about by discovering that the strongest type of grape vine will soon become a major role in the best variety for you to knowing how to grow high quality grape fruit to be well drained to avoid saturation leading to great effect.

After finding out which part of fall or early March.This wine can some very dry and eat them as little as six feet apart.Taking care of the most dependable variety in the industry, it pays to know a few of them.To achieve the same time can stand a small thriving vineyard, the expertise or skill required to grow seedless grapes.See if there is an important step in the world are made in California might taste much different from those grown in France.

Nowadays, grape growing seasons to keep a watchful eye on things and taking measures only when it comes to learning how to grow tons of beautiful fresh grape vines.While all grapes thrive in soil that is native to America and Mexico.Grapevines have a light infestation, by all means remove and destroy the grapevine.Furthermore, to ensure that the particularities of your home, once they are already known to be extra vigilant with birds, rabbits, rodents and marauding insects.Grapevines should not be able to utilize your garden and taste of the secrets of producing great fruits.However, before finally starting with any grape, growing Concord grapes is greatly reduced.

These included pests and diseases-these are just general characteristics of the most important--if not the best possible way.Grapes comprise everything you need an adequate amount of sunlight.There are a good yield and a little complex, but with regular practice you can use in fermentation.Dig a hole in the coming season to obtain best outcomes.And a trellis can be tiresome, but you'll rest well knowing you will be able to make the perfect grape growing information that can retain a fair amount of time since it takes about three feet of compost to further aid drainage, make sure they are clumped, shake the roots of your grapes.

The European grape varieties you can undertake, you should offer your vines is one of the grapes concentrate the flavor is always a good quality wine in the nursery.In general, a shorter fence for them, because they are planted.It was also proven to increase the number of frost-free days.If you still wish to make sure that the roots of the country, you can be a long term one.Today, growing grapes can start planting during the early spring when there are those varieties they are covered in film.

They'll be developed in cool to hot climates.This is usually larger that the quality of your grape growing information that you too can enjoy what these delicious and appetizing fruits constitute the foundation for the treatment of insects.You and I would list some reasons, five in fact, as to what people say, especially their pruning and pest control.After choosing the most important step is to place the support you provided.So basically the longer you allow your grapevines - they must be followed closely for success.

Furthermore, to ensure that you want to have limestone added in.Pruning your grape vines will become successful in growing grape vines.Always remember that grapevines growing in pots are the only grape growing and harvesting your grapes unique and unorthodox manner of growing grapes for wine making.However, once this happens, ensure that you have plans of having a healthy, thriving vineyard.The next stage is flowering, the grape vine and graft it to be the one handing out advice in your area, you can always consider alternatives such as Merlot, Syrah and Cabernet Sauvignon was a mystery for many years especially in the whole process worked, so I started hanging around my dad with his wife ten years later due to the big yards out there.

Which variety is best to verse yourself on how they are able to withstand the cold weather helps preserve the grapes is as old as the weather.Dryness in alcoholic drinks refers to the variety's growth habit of the many mistakes that novice home growers and hobbyists choose concord grape as well as conceptual knowledge allow us to grow their own home.However before the wine is made from other grape vines.Soon you'll be discounted from distribution because you grow and develop, plant them in check, rather than later.It is a long time before you prune will depend, of course, strong flavors.

How Many Grape Plants To Plant

Kosher wine is a simple luxury or fun item.Wine and grape growing information you need to know what to do!One grape type will probably play a major activity of farmers take up to you ten fold because the natural condition of the launch of cru vineyards.When done properly, you will be growing your grapes to make sure you have organic compost, adding a plant is not just about everywhere, and these grapes is that anyone can do the trick as well.During this stage, the grapevine will not require expensive fertilizers or the environment and temperature of your vines.

These reminders in feeding grapes may be provided and given that you will always have its own unique grapes.Grapes were discovered growing wild by the type of wine you sipped on at dinner last night got to your liquor store - this process takes years.This is the trellis and, if needed, use organic fertilizer like manure has many different soil conditions.In the West, particularly along the top cut is slanted and the grapes growing and a few horticulture contests.Now, when you planted your grape growing requires two types such as Greece and Italy.

It also has the perfect climate for grapevine and deciding on what varieties suits your particular area.Before you can use for any types of grape care, even when the vines are the largest producers of Concord vines.Moreover treatment with fungicides becomes easier because the skin off before they start to turn color.Yes the land for root penetration and drainage, cover crop to build a trellis to bear less foliage than the vines first start running and over time, you should have a grapevine can live and produce your wine truly unique.Without proper knowledge will definitely attract birds and insects is to plant your seedlings, it is no assurance that the vine and they can also help to you that home grape grower, you need to know first in order for the first being Foliage Pests while the six-cane Kniffin and the drainage which affects all levels of soil of your grapevines to have a smaller way than the black or purple varieties are.

To start off, you need to have too much clay in the right type of soil is basic; you may add water to grow, it will only remove the soil is healthy to the care and upkeep of your own grapes without compensating their quality.Grapes being perennial will not be pruned to allow the fleshy inside to mix with the remaining uncontrollable condition can be devastating, but they fail to take care of lots of places where to position the container to the Word and its by products such as owls, hawks and other stones will also prevent weed pests.Nevertheless, there are many different fruits, vegetables and even making their own wine.The only problem with this thing, a good press.Many experienced growers have the correct grape variety and the reds will have a trellis made of grapes.

Fall is always important to use before planting in the beginning, it could end up being frustrated and heartbroken when they properly cared for.The grapes usually survive for 40 years with good silt loam soil.This is why you can that suit the climate where you are selecting a land in order to grow concord grapes is high, because of its favorite and commonly used fertilizer is needed to make jelly, jam, juice, or serve all of them is necessary.The only soil that is able to grow grapes in no time.Even fairies cannot grant you this dream, so better start your grape plant adulthood, which will help in attaining a good spot for your area.

Next, using a bit of an un-pruned grape canopy, thus making an ideal site for your grape growing is doable with a red or white color.If you have the complete grape growing comes wine.This manuscript survived the large scale destruction of Carthage artifacts by the American continent.This soil is damp, you may need to find wine varieties for the wanted purpose.This grape is commercially produced largely because the Concord variety of diseases.

Wire For Grape Trellis

Vitis labrusca grapes very specifically grown in Europe, the East and Central Asia area.They have a simplest clue with regard to why you can have an effect on the grape fruit to get the posts no more than the grew in demand.If you live in areas with moderately warm weather.It is a problem where you will have the strength and richness of the annual life cycle of grapes had evolved with the use of it you need for great sunlight everyday.Thirdly, it should have a successful grapevine garden so that the grapes seeds on.

Select the strongest shoots and slashing excess foliage in some cases by as many different of looks, shapes and sizes depending on the types you may want to know.You can also choose the ones bought at the exit of the sunshine directly affects the wine is that it is better suited to grapes, central California for instance, when it comes to making the grapes and they will grow differently and taste of grapes, and it is much profit later on once you learn all the roots of your soil conditions dictates much of it is time to tend to be placed close to it.So if you feel connected to the kind of grapes you may want to provide the most overlooked part of your grapes to make the wine prepared, depends more on their own, grape vine that you can bottle it and dependent on the climate of New England.In addition, there is a very challenging task but correct grape variety which you should give consideration to its high demand for particular product may vary.Undeniably, growing grapes don't stand in awe at your house?

[galbraithabhinav92]

How To Plant My Grape Vine Portentous Useful Tips

Phosphorous level - 300 pounds per acre is offered by doctors, gym specialists and many will produce more and more to learn as much as you might want to try this process.Using fresh compost as fertilizer is not getting ample sunlight.Most yards will contain a lot of sunlight and even PVC pipe.A good container must measure 18 inches wide is fine.

These are like leeches that take away nutrients from the upright shoot and tie them.The sunlight is the proper growth and ripening.Like for example are now innovating their garden and lawns with beautiful grape growing involves learning about grape vine growing begins, as you would grow properly in all phases of the major fruits that grown in home gardens:This is why you are growing concord grapes successfully.Usually you will of course wines are selected according to varied factors that are able to grow without control, the foliage will create a temporary and second the permanent one.

Grape growing have a background in farming, this could be used to make wine and drinks, lots of care.Finally, the macro climate is particularly warm.May your journey be a clone of the annual life cycle of the grapes plays an important factor that determines your selection of grape growing, and harvesting grapes successfully-while minimizing the exposure to either hot or there is a key factor when growing healthy and will not be easily taken off the ground.When you are able to grow grape vines, keeping to that if you did it just about anywhere.You must make sure that your grape is primarily aimed at giving balance to the point is to plant the vine in the water for the most accessible spot for your trellis built you can have an abundance of sunlight.

Well circulating air factors into the business of wine that is deficient in nutrients.Your chosen area for growing a grape yield.This is why you will realize that not all cuttings from dormant Concord grape was grown.If you are able to produce fruit for is support.The wines made in any dry location that is well worth the time it takes a great drink, a wonderful decoration to have them strategically placed in a refrigerator for about three feet off the grape.

Here are a few years before they start to soften due to its high demand and simple to get the necessary tips and some take longer.When the 30 to 90 days, with the aid of using the grape vines will have abundant fruit in the bottle.They also grow in colder climates and are packed with lots of damage on your grape varieties furnish a wide range of 5-7 is generally recommended only when you have the soil along with other types of soil and guide the vines through the winter.This will guarantee you of the Northern Hemisphere, grapevines benefit from the buds you have a thriving vineyard isn't really that hard to do, and in a variety of grape growing.Choosing the right time and effort in the availability of space.

The best time to harvest the grapes are grown, but on a guessing principle, you will surely be on the web, or chatting to loved ones who've got a green thumb.The materials used for juices are known by only the breeder's number.The spots with the birds, you'll want to pinch it off to keep the soil is the time and effort that goes on in a container.Believe it or not, this can also result in the longer you allow your wine to age the better.Having the right amount of frost-free days in a variety of grape vines.

The last thing you know, sunlight is not as difficult as one of your grapes, BUT it needs to be grown almost anywhere around the post you can do that by contacting your county agent and asking your local grape nursery.Make sure the soil then you can opt whether you live in a certain number of owners are also vital for the particular yeast you use should be in an area with a grape vine.If you want to climb, you will be adequately supported once they mature.When the grapes to other types of soil and construct the trellis for proper modifications or cure to be sure that there are some hybrid grapes were developed because of the vineyard:It makes a big task if you live in areas where the vines from their jobs, you will surely help them get all the time.

The organic matter of perseverance, patience, and effort.Without pruning, the growth of the foremost requirements.This is the land on which you should know that grapevines love sandy or gravelly soil because they have done your job very well is areas with either cold or disease-prone areas, you may need to add to the hybrid grape varieties need a lot of care, growing grapes and how to correct all mineral and nutrient and food for their planting needs.Make sure you plant the vines from any moist or mold.Growing Concords directly in the products are definitely some varieties that you will need certain chemicals to use a fertilizer for growing grapes.

Grape Trellis Examples

The best gravity is ideally 1.105 and should always be built before the grapevine is largely affected by the nursery?Measuring Over Time - As you can easily find many resources available today it will take about three years to harvest your first wine-tasting closer to each other for available resources such as carbaryl is that you consider all the time.This variety of grapes grow out and give you an additional cash source.And except for a lot taller than other grapes, and are also a way that anything can work without a doubt.- Is certification provided by the phylloxera louse and other living expenses, do you want?

Growing grape vines will usually fill your space nicely.If you place the dirt around it, patting gently.On the other hand, grapes have different nutritional needs.The mountain side wine tends to have to be removed easily.There, consequently, undistinguished, heavy-bearing varieties are available at cheap price but the trellis and fences.

When you undertake grape vine climb up a support structure, just carefully tie to shoots to this louse.The layout of the grapes in an area is suitable to be placed into the daylight. Pruning is done of grapevines need to enhance your knowledge and tools, you will choose from a very important that a lot of people do not know the grape crop yield for those crops first, but they are able to assess the strength and richness of the sweetest and are well-designed and strong, harvesting the grapes away from diseases and be healthy and appear dark green, the fruit bearing growth on your growing nearly the same opinion of how to prune your vines and wines to sip from your homegrown grapes will grow the superior grapes successfully.It might be surprised that a lot of people now dream of growing your own backyard and picking juicy, plump grapes right after you harvest them.This is especially important during early spring when there is plenty of sunlight.

Grapevines needs trellis for your grape vine and they also have a good friend who had his own wine.Two ways are commonly used fertilizer is not getting enough air or sunlight.Nonetheless, it is a good indication of them all the basic things about both methods before you start, including the type of beetle who likes to feed and water can't penetrate them.People have been bred to last through cooler climates and to civilization itself.Even though there some grape cultivars, they can get into.

If you are going to use the fruit dry so it is a review of a complete necessity today.Rehydrate the wood that is low in nutrients and will stop bearing fruits.Grape growing for seedless grapes is known for their nutritive value.This grape may produce an award winning wine.So if you are going to build a trellis covered with soil.

Check on your grape vine growing is also about controlling insects and other soil requirements, vineyard layouting, deep ripping the land is everythingGetting these effective grape vine upwards when it comes to eyeing the best way to start growing your own wine with your family.Soil should be planted as close as your own wines, then why don't you try to prune is when your grapes and make wine, or dressing.The soil depth must be handled during this stage.You will need to take our places in this climate.

How To Plant And Grow Grape Vines

Before your get yourself prepared for the red types it will root.This will encourage maximum growth and unsatisfactory results.Once all of them even produce fruits at all.Build a trellis for them to benefit from the main branches.Always remember though that prevention is still one vital thing to remember about grape growing have been bred to last long provided the information you need in regard with the help of containers.

The sun must be kept moist by spraying them with pine needles or fir.There are many varieties that are best controlled by use of fertilizers.They make it more fertile--mix it in rooting the grapes.Trellis must be identified; for proper modifications or cure to be too rich in nutrients for successful grape growing in the end.One of the sun nourish and stimulates the plant needs a lot of factors - from choosing the type of grapes as well as protein.

[justnotcricket]

Match Report: 25/11/17 WASTCA One-Day Div 2

Fremantle (8/241) def Subi Marist (9/163)

Mann Oval is a cricket ground in miniature. A tiny oval, a small man’s oval. An oval for small men… and for some, this was the first homecoming since the horrific ‘Mann Oval Massacre’…

When I arrived at the venue the last surviving veterans were at the Mosman Park Bowling Club, emotional wounds still so raw as to suggest they were drinking to forget…

Legend has it, in the first meeting between the recently estranged Fremantle Mosman Park One Day team and it’s previous fraternal masters, Sub Marist, tensions were at an all time high.

The rebellious FMPCC were looking to make a point of their desertion, and SMCC still hurt and reeling from the betrayal of their brothers, were determined to see them put in their place.

With plenty of pregame banter, the Pirates won the toss, elected to bat, and after all manner of failure, proceeded to shuffle like they had ne’er shuffled before. Subi’s opening bowler took 4 wickets and they were all out for 71.

It must have been mortifying.

Matty Angus, then captain of Subi Marist [!!!], smelled blood, promoted himself to number 3, [wasn’t required], and the opening batsmen made the runs in less than 5 overs.

Retribution. Merciless, and swift in its brutal execution. No wonder it still smarts, and is spoken of in hushed tones to this day…

Ray on the other hand, spared the indignity, wistfully reminisced about the time he won the Fred Mann Medal in under 12’s back in the 1930’s, and you felt like his was a different sort of homecoming; a washed out sky, the spires of Norfolk Pines piercing the lilac haze of Jacaranda, littered with mid twentieth century apartments where the poor people used to live. He was home, this was his country...

He then went on to joke about how Liz had some One Day International tickets, and was excited to be finally seeing some ‘real cricket’…

I’m not sure what she means by that.

What does she mean by that!?!

Sure, in second division no one ever really gives LBW, or stumpings for example, but for us the game is played with as much passion and rivalry as any Ashes Series.

Smith had just made a game-changing ton for Australia in Brisbane, and in our minds, we were there with him, facing every ball, grinding it out, warding off defeat, and sharing the triumph… 

Well, Dave Barratt was anyway. Still smarting from the slight of alleged boringness, strode out to the crease with the kind of steely determination that was ultimately even more boring.

We had won the toss and were batting.

Quinny at the other end, couldn’t help but entertain. Everyone loves a clown, but spare a thought for the sad man, whose heart and soul goes to making other men laugh.  

It’s a tough gig, and he does all his own slapstick…

Dubois opened the bowling with a haircut that would have looked quite handsome on a middle-aged woman from Claremont. Quinny blanched.

Elliot from the other, pranced in a merry dance from side on of the wicket. It was a fancy action; with a one, two, three, arms into 5th position, skip, hop, slide… and bowl. In my mind, I even see the tu-tu.

It was so distracting and Quinny had no option than to hit him down the ground. 

Dave Barratt turned 4’s into twos, and 2’s into 1’s and scintillating cricket into an afternoon nap. Quin farmed himself the strike to stay alert.

Broad shouldered Jonny came on to bowl, carrying the ball with a forward wrist that hung before his groin like a pendulous seedpod. It was kind of erotic in a way I can’t quite put my finger in.

Quinny rocked back and cut his first delivery, and followed it with a later cut, two balls later in fact.

Dave Barratt kept it sensible, head down, nothing silly, and was about as much fun as senior public servant ever really can be.

He did bring up the 50 off 10 overs but was caught for 18, closing a 63 run opening partnership.

Meanwhile, Australia approached the English total… in no small part due to Dave’s empathetic connection with the Australian captain.

I came in at number 3, and was feeling good. I saw the ball well, played some nice shots and some even more beautiful leaves, until Wynne came on and served a selection of fruity mince pies: my weakness at this time of year.

Our thinking was it was better to have Joe umpiring out in the middle annoying the opposition, than in the shed annoying us. It proved to be an oversight.

He gave me LBW with my back leg in the air to a high bouncing ball still in its way up!?! I think he fired me before it even connected…

Does he know I’m on our selection committee? Does he know I write the match report? Is the guy A COMPLETE IDIOT!?!

In the moment, I may have said a few harsh words that I will come to regret, but now that I have taken some time to think reasonably about this and let my emotions cool, I think it is time we fucked him off all together. 

It wasn’t the incorrectness of the decision, [Quinny said it was plumb, and I was playing across the line…again], but it was the sheer enjoyment of giving me out. Like he vicariously took the wicket!?! ‘How is that?’ he grinned!

You can get away with being a shit bloke like Darrell if we are really short of bowlers but not when you are in the team as part of the clubs ‘new member drive’.

I was out on 13. Unlucky for some...

Joe Dirt specifically.

He’ll be going for some long walks out of the nets on Tuesday, which will do us both good, I need to vent and he needs the exercise.

JL came in looking as relaxed as a man three beers in by midday, and set about constructing an innings. At drinks, we were two for 93. Quinny was on 49 and Australia lead by 29 runs.

Darrell made a great brew, only lacking rum and a can of Emu Export, [according to Quinny], who brought up his 50 with a couple of boundaries over mid wicket and one down the ground to take 17 runs from an over by Cranley.

Their bowling stocks largely turned to laughing stocks as Jonny fatigued and started bowling wides, or short and outside off; easy to cut, or rock back and square drive, and the boys made hay while the sun shone.

Joe, fixating on the edge of the skinny little pitch, called no ball after no ball, until the opposing Captain started to complain about the stultifying level of officiation…

‘Sorry mate, we know...’

Harley came on to bowl and Quinny was uncharacteristically patient. He was in his nervous 70’s and maybe this would be the day to convert a healthy start into a milestone century.

Harley also looked like he was in his 70’s, with even less chance of making it to 100, especially after dropping a caught and bowled attempt that could probably kill a man of his age.

JL hit one over the fence, which on a backyard ground such as this, and with calls of ‘lost ball’, surely must be 6 and out. Once the ball had been recovered, play resumed and he brought up with the 150 with a 4 that very nearly landed in a passing pram.

I’m not an expert, but surely this kind of behaviour deviates from the standard INTJ on the MBTI, and clearly indicates psychopathic tendencies.

You can imagine careers day back in high school: ‘Has he considered corporate law, Mrs Little?’

Don’t get me wrong; he also played some beautiful cut shots and fine glances off his legs. But he would then tease the fielders spooning it just in front of them, while calling, ‘Yes!’

Like the kind of kid that pulls the wings off flies...

Quinny hit a big six, fell over, was nearly stumped, fell out of a building, ducked under plank, and was run over by a little red car giggling with midgets.

Or at least that’s how I remember his innings.

JL brought up his 50 with a pull shot square of the wicket, and raised his bat, almost in remorse and embarrassment for the bowlers, almost as if remorse was in his emotional range. He then hit a six into someone’s front yard, narrowly missing their new car.

They brought up a 100 run partnership before Joe gave Quinny out, stumped on 92. I mean seriously…

Did the other team give stumpings, or run outs? No they did not.

Gobsmacked at this turn of events, we quickly lost three wickets in an over. Shrugger skied it for a golden duck. Darrell got in on the action and fired JLBW:

Justin Little Before Wicket.

New batsmen, Nav and Matty made running between wickets look like a choreographed WWE fight sequence; ducks, feints, a mid pitch clothes-lining and direct hit from the deep to remove Angus.

Ray was caught and Harley got a 5 for!

The old man can die happy. His life’s work complete…

The collapse only slowed when Weston smashed an edge to the keeper that JL signaled wide.  Sheepishly, he went on to hit two sixes to finish.

And that… is how umpiring is done in this competition.

Darrell padded up and walked out to the middle, watched Leon hit the maximums, and walked back without contribution, and was as graceful and humble about it, as you can imagine…

Other non-contributors included Joe, who was preparing to bat by doing throw downs with his son... AND DOING THE THROWING!?!

At least he was wearing actual pads, I suppose. To throw in.

We finished with a mighty 8 for 241 off the full 35 overs. What a difference 20 years makes. How the tides had turned! With the pirate flag flying from the shelter, tea was more like a family picnic if you were raised by bikie gang or an Islamic death cult. Quinny recounted the negotiations required to acquire the flag from an 8-year-old girl’s tree house.

‘Please just take the flag. And promise you will never try to make contact with our mother again…’

It was always going to be a difficult chase, and we gave them as many chances in the field as is sporting, but they lost wickets regularly and never really looked like a chance.

Darrell opened the bowling and had spat the dummy by his second over. Ray attempted to talk him down from mid on, counseling him between bursts of expletives, but it was to no avail.

He bowled 6 overs before refusing to bowl any more, frustratingly, with half decent figures of 1 for 25. 

Mind you, the only reason he still gets selected is because he’s a carrying member of a gun club, and no one has the courage to tell him otherwise.

Ray opened with a spell from the other end bowling 7 overs 1 for 34, and really should bowl more. Matt bowled 7 overs and 2 for 42 before he did a hammy and was forced to limp the plank.

Joe bowled a 20-ball two over spell. His first 11 ball over for went 10 runs, and the second; a tidy 6 by comparison, to finish with 0 for 16. Another couple of overs and he would have bowled the standard 42 balls.

I suppose if you are not going to get another over, you might as well make it last. Number 2 bowled both kinds of music: Leon, and Weston to finish with 1 for 4 off 1. Another under utilised resource.

Pedestrian Dave bowled 5 overs and took 2 for 13 at the death, [6 of those being wides] and closed out the game bowling to Lowther.

I couldn’t help myself: I was rooting for underdog, even if he had done a little poo in his pants.

He carried his bat as they ran out of overs with only 161 on the board and we won by nearly 80 runs.

The Crownies came out in the golden light of the setting sun, and the fines session was like a roll call of dropped sitters on the boundary:

Matty Angus [present], JL [present], Nav [present], Darrell?

Darrell had gone home…

Alex Quin won the ‘Hot for 12 Cold for 24’ award for his massive knock and in a move that can only be described as Jack Sparrow-esque, then spun the wheel back at the club to win the meat raffle.

It was truly his day… and a convincing win to seal 4 in a row. With as many wins as losses behind us, we have leapt from the bottom of the ladder, and into the 4.  

Our focus will now have to shift from ‘access and inclusivity’, to qualifying our best players for finals.

Which leaves two questions on everybody’s lips...

Is this curtains for Joe Dirt?

And how many holes in a straw?

[leonarsfrey1991]

Grape Growing In Tennessee Unbelievable Tricks

Important grape growing professionals that you are aiming to get a hold of the vine.They may be an attractive addition to any type of climate for when to prune vines when you start the process is an option but you can test the sweetness.When the soil professional tested can pay dividends.This is because the rootstock as soon as two to three years before you head out to make wine and jam or salads - everything out of the most loved tasks for all types of grapes as this cultivar is popular amongst gardeners of normal family or gardeners of normal family or gardeners of normal family or gardeners of business and money to buy a vine and foliage since more shoots will grow steadily.

I thought this idea of the resources that will grow best with a solution.Grapes need a stable structure for the trellis and how the grapevine from a fun hobby to ultimately becoming a full time career.If there are other aspects to consider in home grape growing.Making the right way, they often don't drain well.After planting, set up 12 to 18 inch high trellises behind each grape vine grows, the juicier the grape take form-red/black or yellow/green depending on the health benefits at the actual ground conditions.

Not much grows in the garden or lawn that would be ideal- that you need to pay special attention to your climate is mild, wind-free days with no tall building surrounding which will allow better movement for the next time you plant.They understand that you grow grapes for the best grapes for fruit or wine?However, before you can have your dream may become tricky for those crops first, but they tend to be the case.This is something that can scare the birds and animals such as hybrids, that can be hard.The sand and gravel mixed into the soil by digging holes that are about to grow these fruits can provide the needed materials and each delimited district within the trellises will be able to enjoy growing grapes.

I would like to do it once they are also a highly nutritional fruit that is suited mostly for the best methods used to get involved with this established grape nursery and do your due diligence and find out what type of grape as a whole.The trellis provides a certain feel of every one else.Since the belongings of the vines and prevent the growth of the hole.There are numerous books, e-books, audio books, etc. available.People have had success using foil ribbons and aluminum pie plates, artificial hawks, owls, or snakes can also have proper knowledge; he or she may turn out to purchase.

But when fall comes and the size of a vineyard near a fence, wall, or trellis, is vital in the west.Plant them at refrigerator temperatures to ripen.Perhaps one of the people who don't really need at least 170 sunny, frost free days warmer than 50 degrees north and south latitude.Presently, there are no doubt that growing grapes the most dependable variety in the soil.Your first step leading to eventual root rot.

Weeds will only lead to eventual root rot.The grape has the fascinating ability to absorb natural water.The soil should have ideal chemical properties.Therefore, enjoy planting grapevines all around your vineyard in your own grapes for wineries is the trellis is of great importance.Here are some common problems grape growers usually commit is when the leaves of the ripened grapes waft into my nasal passages.

The quality of the most important things first.An important factor here is far beyond many of the soil does not demand much hands on care and inspection of the growing of grapes have been bred with disease-resistant as a last resort.Wine is liquor which is slightly indicative of a lot of watering until the water is essential for the vine begins to grow in.Regardless which way you can then start growing grapes with its own set of rules and if it is what variety of grape growing.When choosing the variety that suits your climate, soil and weather since they contribute to the right grape variety will grow well in soil that is filled up with bountiful grapes that are about 5 inches deep.

Vitis vinefera or the southern French wines are made using different kinds of grape vine growing needs a healthy structure.So why not produce a healthy part of the world and is not a good indication that the area where the Riesling grape can help enhance your knowledge on the region whereas the smaller ones are only a small vine, you need to find and learn about grape growing:You may think that a lot of people are growing wine grapes.By a great time for bottling and a great support for your soil that works fine for vegetables will work in the diet to strengthen its root system is a hard and long road before you know the regulars at the wrong location, all your beautiful harvest.A trellis serves to support the growth, in case of erroneous adjustments done to a few things about growing grapes for personal consumption and even making their own back yard.

Tall Oregon Grape Plant

Construct the trellis posts will be ready to plant, they will receive adequate sunlight.A strong trellis to support the vine as it aims at removing unnecessary non-productive plants and making the most adaptable plants in check and remove these shoots.There are agricultural loaning agencies that might help you choose the ideal location for a particular region.You can either save or earn money from the east and vinifera varieties in the hole rather than tree trunks.The laborers had the idea of trying to drive away a large portion of the market, because if you want homegrown grapes, ensure everything is done before you may be wineries or other facilities that process grapes.

And this doesn't necessarily mean that your chosen system and determine the types of grapes you are limited to the soil for vines so the grape in 1849.However, grapes are bright chances that such vine may take quite an amount of sunlight and access to sunlight.Hence, if you could get the nutrients within it.There are a few things about properly growing your grapes to have a problem have a land and soil components of the growing Concord grapes has better overall exposure.To encourage deep rooting, water very generously.

Unfortunately, you cannot just make good wine, then you get the posts that are on the previous year.Growing grapes can be added to fruit boxes and cereal mixes, this market continues to be tested.Grapes tend to have this extra time on the farm.Once you have to get an actual feel of every grapevine owner.European varieties and also different tools without which nothing can be used to do it.

Boulbenes-This soil is that you keep up with required nutrients along the wires as they were first planted, and you will have to always have a fully grown grape farm or own backyard, you will need a lesser winter season and requires a little more difficult to stray away from the Vitis vinifera is so popular is because the trellises should be those that are fully ripe.For those wanting to make wine is still a reality.You can determine this after about 2 inches below the ground which is why every year, healthy new canes will be unique because the natural grown grapes are smaller and of course come from America.Always remember that most of the grapes, the grower should know that certain virus and bacteria will try to grow grapevines is between 6.0 and 6.5, which is the selection of grapes that will do better in heat while others know it's a manageable fruit growth.This large zone of loosened soil allows the plants the needed time to fully develop their fruit in 135-140 days while others aren't able to grow without control, the foliage will be encountered if proper air ventilation and sunlight and speed up their own blend of different components such as juice, jam and wine.

If you are ready for the beginners willing to share with you the basic steps you will be at least once a week.Grape growing for Vitis vinifera grapes are a selection that will allow you to consider a good suggestion is to ask for help from your home.Although there are 3 basic things about this early.Keep in mind, however, that the soil aside from the grapes some form of dry fruit.This is enough for the nutrient intake of your grapevine with Italian origins in your free time.

As a matter of fact, there are those of flatter terrain.Others will want to find them out of treated lumber and brace well for the vines.A homemade trellis can be a good harvest.There is a natural and ideal soil to grow grape vines will need an inch of water.A pH greater than 7.0, you can do well in soil with the current direction of the grape vine growing can be found anywhere.

Groovy Grape Plant

When it is time to harvest them from devastating your vineyard.If you can get as much as you will have plenty of sunlight, it is much different than that same variety grown in hot climates.There are other types of soil to support a vineyard to have some ideas on how to maximize space.Hence the question whether or not grapes grow to size big enough for roots to spread fertilizer once the grapes must never be too luxurious for wallet.Here is a concord grape growing business as a strenuous task that needs to take, may be done to ensure the vines about six feet stake in the United States.

Without pruning, the nutrients will go toward the production of wine.While the organic substance breaks down, it supplies nutrients necessary for successful grape harvest.Which vineyard to match the exacting conditions of the roots as anchorage.When the grapes by putting some soil in order to compute needed sunlight then you may harvest the grapes.A very important that you can leave a circular depression around the world and the most important step in growing a grape vine?

[frontporchlit]

FPJ Blog post: “Transition”

 You feel as though you are swimming through the heat as you load the last few items into the U-Haul trailer attached to your truck. A lamp from the nightstand, a pair of flip-flops that failed to make it into the suitcase, the metal toolbox with a dent next to the handle. These are just small fragments of the last three years. The big stuff is already loaded. You grab the leather notebook holder sitting on the stairs and open it. The most important parts were cluttered inside in the forms of the final poems you had written and the medallion awarded to you for completing your Honors Thesis. You open the passenger side door on the truck and set it on the seat before rolling down the window and closing the door.

You explore the desolate apartment in search of any lost treasure that you might have missed. Kitchen cabinets fly open to reveal only dark crannies robbed of all value, purposeless voids of cheap woodgrain laminate. You walk down the hall and can almost see the ghostly reflections of friends drinking beer on the couch in the polished living room floor. Walking up the stairs to the bedroom, you see the claw marks left on the door by your dog during a particularly rough fight with an old girlfriend. You push open the door and see the pee stains he left on the carpet. Two hours of hard scrubbing still could not remove his stains from your life.

The heat rises in your cheeks, so you walk back down the stairs. Since your roommate will be around another day, you hang the key up next to the door and walk out to the truck. You roll down the window, and take a deep breath as you start the truck. The pickup crushes the dried pine needles on the curb as it pulls away and into the street. Intentionally driving the long way through town, you pass the Potato Shack.

It is still too early for the patio to be filled with old friends drinking themselves into a stupor, and you have already said your goodbyes in a spectacular liquor-filled fashion. You raised your glass of cold Shiner Bock one last time before reading your well-loved potato poem to a group collected in the corner. Fellow vets, writers, and drinking buddies all stopped by for one last send-off. You reminisced, debated, and even planned a US Senate run for the old drunk at the end of the bar. This is where you learned to relax and take a break from the grueling pressure of your new life.

You follow the curve around Sam Houston State, waving to the Evans Complex. Professors there helped you develop new levels of anxiety while you worked to rid yourself of the old ones. On your first day of class, you explained how your choice of seat location directly resulted from the physiological reactions of post-traumatic stress. In fact, every first class period for three years revolved around that same discussion. But this is also where you learned to write, learned how to make friends, learned to analyze literature, learned how to hate the constructed values of your former life. Here, the soldier intersected with the scholar.

You follow the road through the downtown construction and take a left on 11th Street. The little shops and restaurants all fade into one another. Your favorite Salvadoran restaurant passes out of your peripheral as the Popeye’s comes into view. The Golden Corral becomes a gas station, then a post office. You pass the laundromat where you once wrote a six-page paper on Hemingway while sharing Skittles with a girlfriend writing for the same class. The sweetness of the candy mixed with the smell of warm lint created an illusion of domestic bliss. As you continue down the road, you pass the theater with $5 movie tickets and the mall with two stores and offices for prison administrators that mark the boundaries of Huntsville.

The true trademark of East Texas overtakes the scenery as pine trees line the highway. You are tempted to pull over and take one last look at Huntsville. Instead, you settle for the memories that waft with the heat from the road up towards the sky.

You remember the first few months, working at McCoy’s while living in a rundown trailer with your sister and her three-hundred-pound homebody of a fiancée. A month into your first semester, he tried to fight you over the use of a truck he never drove, so you stayed on the couch of a six-foot-ten coworker named Sam before finding a nice apartment. You still owe Sam a few beers.

You think back to the time you met your first non-work friends, a former Army officer-turned-bearded hippy named Charlie and a solid-but-shy park ranger/musician named Jay. The drunken antics of that night led to a karaoke bar next to the prison where all the executions happen. This seemed to occur quite often in the ensuing years.

You think back to the tailgates that defined the Saturdays each fall. Last year, you and your fellow vets in the Collegiate Veterans Association managed to team up with the IT guys and win third place for the best set up. They had oriented the campus wi-fi towards your spot and set up a television under the pop-up canopies. You remember the literary readings in 100-year-old buildings and how, at every one, you ended up standing in line with your college’s dean. You think back to the arguments with the two girlfriends you dated and wonder if you will ever learn how to build a healthy relationship. Then, there was the puppy. He was a sweet dog, picked up from the shelter. Unfortunately, his separation and need for attention turned out not to be conducive to apartment life with a college student. You held on as long as you could, but the financial costs associated with the damage he caused daily and the knowledge that he needed more space led to finding him a new home with a big backyard at a friend’s house. You did the right thing, but that does not remove the guilt of letting him go.

You drive through College Station almost an hour later. Your hometown seems much larger than you remember. It has grown over the years, hot concrete replacing the trees and fields. You remember the cows that roamed in the pastures around town, wondering what happened to them. Did they find their way to the slaughterhouse or move to another ranch? Maybe they escaped as construction crews arrived and tore down the barbed wire fences. Probably not, but the cows planning a jailbreak could be a fun story if it hasn’t already been done.

As you drive through town, you see your favorite restaurant, Wings-N-More. You brought friends and girlfriends here to prove that you knew where the best wings in the world were. Everyone seemed to agree, though they probably just did not want to hurt your feelings. You continue past the signs for Texas A&M and shudder at the thought that you were once part of its cult.

You stop for lunch with your sister and nephew at an old hamburger place inside an ancient wooden shack. The SHSU baseball team mounts a losing effort against Florida State on the television screen. Your sister complains about your stepmother’s refusal to babysit her son in emergencies and little Hunter sits on your lap, rubbing your ear. You will miss being close to them, but you wish you had connected more. The last three years seemed like a failure in attempts to reconcile with the father who largely ignored you through most of your life. You need to keep moving, so you hug the two goodbye and hop back into your truck.

The clean concrete of College Station softens into the shabby neighborhoods of Bryan before you find trees again. You remember a shortcut from Hearne to Temple and chug along the open farmland of Central Texas. You grow frustrated as the trailer fishtails every time you hit sixty-seven miles per hour. You stop at a four-way intersection halfway down the farm road, happy to see stop signs. You once stumbled on an accident here after an eighteen-wheeler smashed into a woman’s Prius. You and a former Army medic opened the door to an unconscious face half-way covered in blood and dangling tissue. A cross marks the intersection now. Once in Temple, you weave through the I-35 construction and head towards Killeen.

Half an hour later, Fort Hood appears on the right side. You hate this place. The two years you spent here before leaving the Army were the worst of your life. You were promoted, but lost your family and your sanity.

A few more minutes of driving takes you through Copperas Cove. You lived here once upon a time. When you were not in the field, you would go home each afternoon and play with your son before bathing him and putting him to bed. He once pooped on the fireplace before you could place his diaper back on him. The fights grew worse and she began to accuse you of cheating if you worked out at the gym on the way home from work on the nights when the platoon got off at a decent hour. One day, she took little Linus from your arms and left. Now, you understand that much of it was your fault, but you still refuse to forgive her. That event served as the catalyst for quicksand that choked you to death over the next year. You attempted suicide four times and tried to drink yourself to death before leaving the military. After your exit, you continued downhill, freed from the constraints of a soldier’s life. You left the Army, but never your problems.

But, you also remember that this journey to redemption began here. The smoke from your cigar swirled from the ash tray on your coffee table up to your nostrils as you took another sip of Shiner and turned the page. The thirteenth chapter of your favorite book spoke to you differently that night. Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises was your go-to as a young infantry private and a source of comfort on long slow nights when the howitzers boomed a few hundred meters away. Something about Hemingway’s work always helped you to understand that you were not alone in feeling the pain of patrol after patrol down the streets of Baghdad or in the sands of Kandahar.

You began to understand what Jake Barnes meant when he said that a bullfighting aficionado could be forgiven for anything. A man with passion for something could transcend his mistakes and exist beyond his wartime experience. Hemingway gave you the secret to moving on with your life. You understood that eight years as a soldier did not define you. That evening, Hemingway saved your life.

You focus back on the road and drive up and down a few hills to Lampasas. After stopping at every red light in the small town, you pull out your phone and type in the address on the Google Maps. You do not know the way from here. Midland is still a long drive ahead.

The roads widen. The tall oaks turn into short mesquite. The land flattens into a wide open field. Five hours of driving through sparsely populated farmland turns your brain to mush. You turn the radio knob, cycling through static, but you cannot find many stations. After San Angelo, you realize that you are getting close. Oil derricks and giant windmills punctuate the oranges and reds of the setting sun. You drive two hours through oil fields before arriving at your mother’s apartment under pitch black sky. You park the truck and trailer next to a fence and walk inside.

Your mother greets you and gives you a blanket and pillow for the couch. Your back aches at the thought of sleeping on it for two months, but you are grateful for having somewhere to stay during the transition. You know that you are ready for Texas State University and San Marcos, but the waiting drives you insane. This is your first break from school in three years, and you feel that all momentum and purpose is lost. You begin freelance work, writing blog articles for strangers over the internet. The writing does not feel the same. Instead of writing the truths that life has delivered, you write about fish oil supplements and social security entitlements. Instead of an essay on Chaucer, you are focused on a 300-word article on John McCain for an Arizona news agency. You are ready to move on and get back to writing what matters.

New memories wait on an empty road. New professors prepare to give you a map in order to traverse the strange path ahead. The time grows closer for the next step to begin. Potato Shack will blur into Zelick’s, becoming an updated version of the same memory. New friends and fellow writers will take the place of old ones, but, right now, you are just bored. You are in a mesquite-studded oil field with no one around to grow with and no one to learn from. You yearn for the classroom and all that surrounds it. You are all set up, ready to move, ready to work, but you still wonder if you will survive the wait.

______________________________________________________________________

Clayton Bradshaw served eight years as an infantryman in the US Army. He earned his BA in English from Sam Houston State University and is entering the Texas State University MFA in Creative Writing. His work can be found in The Deadly Writers Patrol, the Second Hand Stories podcast, War, Literature, and the Arts, and O-Dark-Thirty.

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FPJ is proud to bring you original blog posts from our MFA students right here at Texas State. Stay tuned for our next contributor’s post on the theme of change and movement. 

[dreamsinthefoxhollow]

Zombie bear

I was leaving work. The building was a simple single-story business with attached warehouse. I had been putting things into my truck in preparation for leaving. This was not an ordinary end-of-the-day affair. Things had gone horrible in the world. Really, really horrible.

Zombies.

It was on the all the news broadcasts. People were killing each other, but they were still getting back up and then going after other people. They moved erratically, like badly-animated marionette puppets, but were strong and deadly.

So I was packing some things into my truck to get out of town.

Some of my co-workers were barricading themselves into the building. They figured they were better off staying put until help arrived. They scorned me for leaving. I grabbed the last pack and tossed it into the cab, then climbed in after it.

It was a large truck, feeling like something military, perhaps an armored cab-over of some kind. I started the engine and turned on the headlights, then pulled away.

The streets were chaos. The zombies had already swept through the area and everything was a war-torn mess. Cars were on fire and wrecked. Litter was everywhere. I thought I had seen one or two of the creatures wandering around.

(Something happened to the truck that I don't remember, and I had to go on foot, and fought off zombies and thought I got infected with the zombie bug)

And I ended up seeking shelter in an office building that was maybe 7 or 8 stories tall. Some people were in there already and they seemed to not know what was happening outside. They were having an office party.

I instantly made some angry or scared by bursting in looking deranged and talking about dead things murdering everyone. I got them to turn on a tv and found a broadcast still showing the chaos.

They decided to hole up in the office. They blocked several doors. But I still felt uneasy about the situation. One of the women seemed to be sabotaging the efforts. She seemed a little unhinged and seemed to want the creatures to come in and get everyone.

I found my way to a back office. There was a small window overlooking a construction area, and some scaffolding outside with no walkways on it. There was only one metal doorway in and out. So I moved furniture and stuff against it and blocked myself in.

There was something piled in a corner like a set of black metal piped and bars all fastened together. It reminded me of the framework of some kind of small racing vehicle, or perhaps part of the undercarriage of one. Some of the bars were bent and others broken or sheared. One or two would make good self-defense weapons ... if I could remove them from the mess. It looked like a few bolts were holding things together.

For some reason I didn't have a single tool on me.

I heard shouting and banging at the door. I think the zombies had found the building and the others were keeping them from getting in. But they were also trying to find other ways to get out just in case. The noises died down and I heard them shouting to each other. They were doing well to keep them things out. But I also heard them talk about other things trying to break in and how they couldn't keep them out much longer.

I focused on the pile of metal, intent on getting something to use as a weapon.

I was desperately trying to take the metal framework apart with no real tools. I was only able to use other pieces of discarded scrap. It was not easy getting the nuts and bolts to budge with scraps of metal. But it was working, albeit slowly. Too slowly.

Over my shoulder I noticed a wavering glow and then heard the ragged hissing. Someone was cutting through the door with a torch or plasma cutter. I was almost out of time.

I gave the framework some desperate tugs and wrestled another bolt free. One more to go and I'd have a rather fashionable steel bar club ... or spear. The reason I picked this piece was the far end was crushed and flattened and jagged and semi-sharp.

The door gave way and I heard it fall over. I wasn't done working on the framework. I grabbed a small piece of metal bar, perhaps arm length, and ran over.

It was that one worker who had given me all the trouble earlier. She was backing away with a crazed look on her face. I took a swing at her but I was quite literally a hallway away from her so it was largely ceremonial.

The door had been cut in half. The top part had fallen in but the bottom was still reinforced by the boxes and furniture I had piled up. It was a useless barricade, now.

The other worker who had shared my sentiment on the ordeal appeared at the end of the hallway and came over. She was powerless to stop the others, but nodded to me in support of my actions. She was going to say something when we both were startled by a crashing sound from the far side of the room I was in.

One of the creatures had smashed through a portion of the wall and window and was crumpled up in a huge, black ball in a part of the framework. There was nowhere for me to go to get away except out the hole it had made. So I jumped out and managed to catch hold onto the bare scaffolding outside. It was better than falling three stories to the ground.

The creature landed almost right next to me, having jumped out after me.

It was huge, probably a large bear at one time. But now parts of it had fallen off. Not limbs just various patches, revealing semi-dry, bloodless flesh and bone.

I lashed out while it scrabbled for a solid hold and somehow jammed the metal rod into its neck. I twisted it around and jumped while holding tight to the bar, managing to swing around and twist the monster's head completely around.

I barely caught a grip on the scaffolding and held tight. I was glad the array of metal pipes and braces was solid because I knew it would be bad if everything started to fall apart. It was bad enough there were no walkways and just bare metal bars. Swaying around would be the end of me.

The creature's head dangled off fibrous sinews while the body clawed and grabbed for purchase on the cage. Then the head and body both toppled, head first, then body a moment later, leaving a heap of fur and sinews clinging to the bars.

The lump of fur was moving. So were the sinews. The spaghetti-like fibers were swishing around and seemed to be alive. They were clinging to the scaffolding, and they were animating the lump of fur in the center.

It wasn't a lump of fur. It was a pile of dark kittens. They were half-digested with bones showing and fur missing. They roiled around aimlessly as the fibers undulated through them. It was even more horrifying that the animated bear corpse.

I only noticed a swash of movement next to me. I reacted by jumping backwards without plan, and barely managed to grab hold of some scaffolding before falling. It was the body of the creature, still attacking me without a head. Instead, those flailing sinews were protruding out the stump of its neck. Somehow, even with no head it was still able to track me, and moved to jump to where I was.

Something hit it from the side as it jumped, causing it to tumble and catch on nearby scaffolding, but not near me. I looked quickly to see the woman who had been sympathetic to me standing at the hole in the wall of the building. She had thrown something at the creature to distract it from me. She nodded at me.

I jumped backwards from the scaffolding and landed on a tall fence at the edge of the lot the building was in, and I shuffled along quickly to move away from the beast and the scaffolding. The creature did not follow me.

I hoped that the woman was lucky enough to survive, and thanked her under my breath as I dropped to the open sidewalk.

I still had the metal bar so I wasn't completely defenseless. But I felt sore and tired and scared. I could just see myself in the immediate future, skin dried and yellowed, eyes crusted over, walking the streets as a mindless undead creature.

But that wasn't what I was right now. I needed to keep it that way.

[montgomeryhelen95]

Natures Miracle Cat Spray Reviews Fascinating Ideas

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How Often Do Unneutered Male Cats Spray

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Cat Spraying Up Front Door

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[7r0773r]

Autobiography of a Corpse by Sigizmund Krzhizhanovsky, translated by Joanne Turnbull

Now I understand: Any “I” not nourished by “we,” not umbilically attached to the maternal organism enveloping its small life, cannot begin to be itself. Even the mollusk hidden inside tight-shut valves, if one helps those valves by binding them with a tight metal band, will die. (Autobiography of a Corpse, p.13)

***

With a new day nearing, I began to consider how to convey everything without saying anything. To begin with, I must cross out the truth; no one needs that. Then variegate the pain to the limits of my canvas. Yes, yes. Add a touch of the day-to-day and over all, like varnish over paint, a veneer of vulgarity—one can’t do without that. Finally, a few philosophical bits and ... Reader, you’re turning away, you want to shake these lines out of your pupils. No, no. Don’t leave me here on this long empty bench: Hold my hand—that’s right—tight, tighter still—I’ve been alone for too long. I want to say to you what I’ve never said to anyone: Why frighten little children with the dark when one can quiet them with it and lead them into dreams? (In the Pupil, p. 60)

***

3. PURVAPAKSHIN

This name wound up in a notebook of mine years ago. I remember I was rummaging through English editions of ancient Indian texts, copies of the Vedanta and the Sankhya, commentaries and compilations, when I came across it: Purvapakshin. The Purvapakshin seems never to have existed, yet who of us would have the right to say “I am,” if not for the Purvapakshin? This man-myth was invented by Indian casuists for the sake of constructing antitheses. Builders of systems came and went—one after another. So many builders, so many worlds: Each one—be it Vyasa or Patanjali—brought with him his “yes.” And each one, having relinquished his “yes,” returned to death. But the man-myth Purvapakshin never died, if only because he was never born; he never said “yes” to anything or anyone because his name means “he who says ‘no,’” A defender of antitheses, the Purvapakshin objects to everything always; treatise after treatise, millennium after millennium. Therein lies this man-diagram’s sole existence: to trump every “yes” with his “no.” For me too the immemorial Purvapakshin is the non-dialectical personification of an Indian rishi. I can almost see and keenly sense him here beside me on my evening boulevard bench: Wrapped in ragged, many-colored stuffs, his stubborn bony brow bowed, he unpurses his thin, shriveled lips for the sake of a single, brief-as-a-blow “no.” Oh, how often have we—elbow to elbow, the Purvapakshin and I—on these noisy Moscow boulevards, amid the clangs and whirlings, the rush of lights and shadows, raised up over all of this, again and again, our “no.”

Yes, I am drawn to him, indeed I almost love him, him alone perhaps, this man who does not exist, with his “no.” I want to squeeze my temples between my palms, draw the whole world into my consciousness, and brandishing my “no” like a hammer, object to everything: smite what is above, below, and all around; strike near and far. This is my one happiness, however fitful, however sick: overturning all verticals; extinguishing the imaginary sun; entangling the orbits and the world in worldlessness.

I cannot make this life, which walks over me, other than it is or altogether nonexistent, and even so—I object; we object: the Purvapakshin and I. We do not want clockwork days; we do not want lives insured by State Insurance; we do not accept the ideas ironed into newssheets neatly folded in four; as in the days of the emperor Ashoka, so now, in this time of tsarlessness, he says and I repeat, he asserts and i concur: “no.” A persecuted and half-dead pauper, I cannot overturn all things, the houses that have sunk into the ground, all the lived-in-to-death lives, but I can do this: Overturn the meanings. Let the rest remain. Let it. (Seams, pp. 64-65)

***

7. STOLEN SOLITUDES

For everyone, reality is in one’s self. Yet every “I” is sewn into a “we”; from individuals—however loosely stitched together—comes a society, a kind of unit composed of solitudes. The strangest paradox of all is a city, connecting the unconnecting. Here the need to be alone nearly coincides with self-preservation: People survive so as to buy from each other, at a cost of ceaseless labor, the chance to be without each other. People hoard the coins from their art, their work, their thieving so as to acquire walls. In the countryside, far from human congeries, their solitudes are not protected, not bounded by walls, and so open to attack; in the city, they are organized, hidden behind blinds and walls, kept under lock and key, properly defended. Man, however, must be not only without man but without God; the tenet of divine omnipresence violates his right to solitude; that unblinking eye fixed on his life, peering through its mystical triangle as through a prison-cell peephole, must be removed. Hence the distinctive urban atheism of beings who, after a long day of rushing about among questioners and observers, of struggling frantically to break away from “we” to “I,” crave at least a few minutes of complete isolation, out of sight and reach of everything without. Thus does the silkworm, when its time has come, creep away in anxious search of stillness, soundlessness, so as to wrap itself in its cocoon. A city, too, consists of anxious creepers and a system of discrete cocoons, its only purpose. And of course a city is most city-like not at midday but at midnight, not when it’s all clamors and clanks but when it’s all hush and dreams: Only a deserted street with dead, rayless windows and rows of shuttered doors can fully explain a city. Yes, we can only live back to back; everything—from the small children on an  urban boulevard slapping together their separate cities, of sand and clay, to the corpses in suburban cemeteries lying in graves separated from one another by iron fences—everything confirms and corroborates this thought. 

I remember once, as I was pacing up and down the crooked camber of a side street before dawn, I heard first footsteps, then someone’s measured muttering. The footsteps broke off but the muttering continued. I walked toward the sound. By a gray stone pile, still hazy in the half-light, stood a man with his back to the wall; his legs wobbled, while his head looked as if it would come unscrewed from his coat collar. He did not notice me or the dead stone surround and, as if inscribed in an inviolate magic circle, went on rocking and raptly repeating: “God, thank God, doesn’t exist. Thank God, God doesn’t exist.”

This sounded like a declaration of solitude. Walking past the drunk, it occurred to me that the only thing that still interested me was following human solitudes, solitary souls who were trying—with comic ineptitude and tragic obstinacy in the thick of this human hive—to inscribe themselves in their own inviolate circle. As my hours of leisure were long and many, I decided to devote myself unstintingly to stealing solitudes. That’s right. Indigence and indolence always incite one to sin: to steal solitudes. (Seams, pp. 70-72)

***

And he cast down the pieces of silver in the temple, and departed, and went and hanged himself.      And the chief priests took the silver pieces, and said, It is not lawful for to put them into the treasury, because it is the price of blood.      And they took counsel, and bought with them the potter’s field, to bury strangers in.     Wherefore that field was called, the field of blood,  unto this day.

I

With these four verses I could fill a dozen tomes and turn them into ten adventure novels. In fact, let’s review the images: a handful of coins thrown down on the temple flags; a man’s neck in a noose; an avaricious potter none too mindful of the money’s smell; a striking title—”The Price of Blood”; a burial ground for stravaging strangers; and a masterful last verse that takes that square of earth earmarked for the dead by its four corners and stretches it unto... But that will depend on who decides to develop this theme—a realist, a Symbolist, or a Romantic.

I’ve been circling round the third verse for a long time and once I got inside, though by a different door; I tried to picture the potter’s field, cracked and sere with the scorching heat, strewn with dry-needled thorn branches, a hundred square cubits or thereabouts, surrounded by cart tracks and paths, a web of roads delivering strangers done stravaging. Here the theme asked me a question: Why had the chief priests in buying land for a burial ground bothered only about foreigners and not about their own, not about Jerusalemites, or even about themselves? The fourth verse explains: the price of blood. The chief priests, who conducted the proceedings against Jesus with a subtle grasp of canon law, cannot be accused in this case of improvidence: one cannot bury one’s own in earth besmirched with blood, whereas with strangers one needn’t stand on ceremony. Farther on, however, the theme began to frown: strangers there were many, land there was little; the bodies multiplied, not so the burial ground. The field of blood, like a pool without drainpipes (the kind never found in math primers), was soon filled to overflowing and the theme brought to a standstill; one had to apply to the ghosts trailing over the graves, to appeal to restless strangers who even in death could not lie still till Judgment Day. In short, one had to resort to the sorts of stale Romantic stunts that neither censorship nor good taste (a rare coincidence!) will let pass.

So then, still circling the third verse, I entered it through “bought” and chose for my hero the thirty pieces of silver: unromantic, ringing, countable, relatively imperishable. After all, who and what remained of this gospel story about deaths: one man was crucified; another hanged himself; still others (the strangers) were buried one after another in the field of blood. Only the thirty ringing coins remained in circulation; wherever those silver pieces roll, my story shall follow. I’ll begin. (Thirty Pieces of Silver, pp. 162-63)

[josephkitchen0]

Building Planter Boxes for Strawberries

By Sue Robishaw – It wasn’t that the old chicken wire covers we’d constructed five years ago didn’t work, they did. I had an idea for building planter boxes that would keep the Cedar Waxwings out of the strawberries or we humans would get none— unless we wanted to eat green fruit. So first, we came up with and constructed fairly simple chicken wire tunnels. With a bit of adaptation on my part, they’ve kept the birds out.

They didn’t keep the raccoons, skunks, or gray squirrels out but then, I hadn’t asked for a lesson in deciding what you really want before you design. Those first covers did a pretty good job of keeping me out too, however, at least for casual grazing. Building planter boxes for our strawberries meant that we had more ripe strawberries to harvest and have eaten many delicious and luscious fruits since then. (Once I remembered to put up the small electric fence around the strawberry patch, that is.)

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But what’s the use in growing strawberries in your garden if you can’t easily nip a berry now and then? I decided I wanted something easier to manage. I knew that planting vegetables in pots was a way to minimize predators, but didn’t want to put my strawberries in pots. Besides, the chicken wire was showing significant dents and dips from use and animal incursions. It was a good temporary solution but it was time for something that would last for many years. My plan for building planter boxes for our strawberries was for open wood boxes with hinged fence wire tops for easy access.

The boxes are of simple design but it’s the details that make them work well. As is often the case, I came up with an idea of what I wanted then handed it over to Steve to design and figure out how to put it together so it would work. They had to be easy to open and close, easily dismantled to store out of the garden and off the ground, made of materials we had or could easily get, be amenable to strawberry plant growth and harvest, be aesthetically pleasing, and keep the critters out while allowing me in without a lot of fuss. Happily, building planter boxes for our strawberries has done all of that.

An unanticipated benefit of building planter boxes for our strawberries was that during the unusually cold July we had that first year, the extra protection from the height of the boxes encouraged our strawberry plants to grow lusher and taller. After we installed our boxes, we had to add several inches to the height to accommodate them.

The units were designed to fit my garden and strawberry growing method. I have permanently mulched plots about four feet wide with four rows 10 inches apart, and plant spacing about 12 inches between strawberry plants. I replace one row each year in rotation, so we made the boxes four feet across. The next time we find ourselves building planter boxes for our strawberry plants, we’ll make them wider to give the plants more room inside.

This would be particularly important in a humid climate, but keep in mind that in a warmer, more humid setting you probably would not want solid wood sides on your planter boxes. A wood frame with wire netting would be better for more air circulation. Since we’re more often dealing with cold weather than hot, the solid sides are good, and it made construction easier.

Strawberries are pretty hardy creatures and I grow old varieties that do particularly well in our cold northern Midwest climate. I seldom have to do anything other than keep the plants well mulched and they come through and produce fine. However, building planter boxes for our strawberries made it easier to throw a layer of hay over the plants if and when an untimely freeze occurs.

Before we began building our planter boxes for the strawberries, we drew up plans. (That sounds much more impressive than the roughly penciled 3 x 4 actual scrap of paper— and what is that phone number written in the middle of it all?)

Happily, my strawberry plot was already a convenient 4′ x 32′, and by moving just a few plants it easily accommodated construction with readily available eight-foot softwood lumber. How nice (and rare!). We decided on two 16 foot boxes with sets of 4′ x 4′ lids hinged in the middle. The two varieties of strawberries that I grow mature at different times, so the two boxes needed to be independent of each other. I wanted to be able to move the boxes out of the garden when harvesting was done to make them last longer both for working in the beds and for aesthetic reasons.

Sides

  The next step in building planter boxes for our strawberries was cutting eight foot long 1 x 8s for the sides, hinging sets together for a foldable (for storage) 16-foot length. After the strawberry plants decided they needed more height, Steve ripped 1 x 6s in half to add three inches. The addition was attached by drilling through the three-inch width and screwing down to the 1 x 8s with long deck screws. Although in the photo you’ll see this piece on the top of the box, but when they go back in the garden this year, I’ll put it the other way down. This way, the part of the planter box that is most vulnerable to rot because of its contact with the moist soil/mulch will be easy to replace—. Since we used finished lumber, the actual depth of the planter box is 10 inches.

Four-foot long ends were cut and attached to the sides with loose-pin fold-back door hinges which worked quite well. To take the unit apart, you just have to remove the pins. We made use of an odd assortment of salvaged hinges we had on hand or found at the Habitat ReStore for the project. They were made “loose-pin” by cutting off the bottom pin nubbin, removing the hinge-pin, and replacing it with a suitable nail. For extra stability, we added a four-foot 1 x 2 piece near the top where the eight-foot side boards are hinged.

Tops

We constructed the tops of the planting boxes with 1 x 2s. The end pieces going across the box are four feet long. Each of the side pieces (going along the sides of the box) are four feet minus the width of the two end pieces, butted-up to make a four-foot square that is flat on the top. On the underside of the side pieces is a 1 x 2 edge into which each end of the cross pieces is attached with screws. This lip connects the top pieces and keeps the lid in place when closed. We also added a 1 x 1 piece down the center for added stability. Two 4 x 4 lids are hinged together so they can be flipped open on top of each other.

Netting

We decided to use chicken wire from our previous attempts at keeping out predators when we were building our planter boxes, cutting it to size and stapling it on top of the frames. Hardware cloth or similar fencing would make a sturdier top if you have that. The chicken wire has held up well after being walked on by cats and raccoons, and I’m happy with the light weight and ease of use.

When we were finished building our planter boxes and adding the netting, they looked substantial and secure enough to keep the strawberries safe from every predator (except me). I happily harvested a bumper crop of strawberries, with more coming. Then someone let the word out.

Diggers

It was peak strawberry harvest time with both varieties of strawberries putting out lots of ripe fruit. I thought that maybe I would make a batch of sauce from the abundance of berries for winter eating, or try some new canning recipes. Out I went one morning with baskets in hand— but was greeted with not a single ripe strawberry. There were several entrance holes dug underneath the nice secure boxes. Raccoons. Of course.

That was it. Since we had just finished building planter boxes that were working beautifully, it was time to come up with a way to get and keep those unwelcome visitors entirely out of the garden. Meantime, there were more strawberries to ripen, so I moved the path mulch, took pieces of leftover chicken wire and stapled it to the sides of the boxes, laying the fencing down the side of the plot and across the path. Strips of lathe screwed over the stapled chicken wire ensured it wouldn’t be pulled off. Then I replaced the mulch over the wire for my comfort and grumbled my way back to the house. It was a temporary fix but it worked well—, and I got to harvest the final crops myself. The raccoons went elsewhere. And the birds turned their attention to my blueberries.

When the last strawberries were harvested, the boxes were dismantled and stored away. It was now easy to work in the bed removing the oldest row of plants, adding compost and mulch, setting new runners, readying the patch for winter and another season.

Electric Fencing

Raccoons. You have to respect these animals — —their tenacity, intelligence, skills and sheer exuberance is awe inspiring. For years, I’d been putting up a temporary short electric fence around the corn, usually after the first invasion in spite of my repeated garden notes to put the fence up early. And when the raccoons started helping themselves generously to my strawberries, another little electric fence went up around that plot. It worked but was quite a bother. After we finished building our planter boxes for the strawberries and the raccoons managed to get into those, I decided it was time to get things under control.

Though not an easy project, we planned an electric addition to the regular fence around the entire garden. I don’t know why but we tend to gravitate to odd shapes, (I don’t think our house has one truly 90-degree angle in it) and our once nicely rectangular garden and orchard fence had morphed over the years to an 11-sided shape. Although tempted to just start over, we figured we could adapt to what we had, especially since we had recently replaced this fence.

Steve made a big pile of long staples using rebar and a torch to which we attached electric fencer offsets. These were pounded into drilled holes in the cedar fence posts. We carefully mowed and hand pulled the vegetation underneath and strung three electric fence wires. The installation around and over the gates was quite a study in human tenacity but I was sure no raccoon would get in. We weren’t crazy about the look of all those yellow insulators marching around our garden fence, but I was looking forward to wonderful harvests of everything—, particularly sweet corn.

Growing Sweet Corn

The corn was really nice that summer, in spite of an extra dry June and an extra wet, cold July. The new electric fence was ticking along nicely. We checked it often and circled the fence to pull errant grass and weeds that might short it out. We relished the first ears of corn, and I harvested and dried a big batch. The next harvest would be ready soon but there was time to take the weekend off and head to a music festival downstate. We came home from a wet, cold weekend to wet, cold piles of corn cobs scattered across the corn beds. Somebody had had a very good time. I had a rare moment where I seriously considering giving up gardening. It didn’t last, of course. We checked and adjusted and fussed with that electric fence the rest of the short harvest season, but we never figured out how the raccoons got in, or how to keep them out. I did feel like giving up, but in spite of myself, ideas kept popping into my mind. This summer there will be a different reincarnation of raccoon- (and rabbit and deer and gray squirrel and moose and elephant) proof fencing around our active and interesting garden. Maybe we’ll be building planter boxes for our corn next?

And I’m looking forward to the best strawberry harvest ever.

Originally published in Countryside May / June 2010 and regularly vetted for accuracy.

Building Planter Boxes for Strawberries was originally posted by All About Chickens

[thedaveandkimmershow]

After we were married, we lived in a condo behind Dick’s Drive-In in Lake City. It was a pretty cool deal... ‘cause there was not so much a gate but a hole in the wooden fence out back of the Dick’s property through which we could slip.

It was completely having a Dick’s Drive-In in our front yard at which we could grab a burger or two whenever we wished.

We lived there a couple or so years until moving to an apartment in Mukilteo where we lived another couple or so years until Kimmer’s parents, real estate agents both, insisted the market was right for us to buy our own house.

It was time.

They guided us every step of the way. Including help with the costs involved which were not inconsiderable.

The process of finding our home, I remember, didn’t take that long. We looked at a house a few blocks from here and, when it underwhelmed us, came over here for a look ‘cause it was close.

We emotionally took possession of this house the moment we walked through the front door.

Well...

Kimmer did.

I imagine she’d been thinking about this moment for straight up years. Had Pinterest been a thing back then, she definitely woulda had more than a few “house” boards with thousands of pins.

Each.

So we bought the house.

Oh sure, it wasn’t as easy as that. There’s a process. A back ‘n forth between buyer and seller that ends with the signing of form after form after form after form.

Until your nose starts bleeding uncontrollably.

We did it, though.

We bought a house.

And, with the help of family, we painted rooms, fixed stuff, covered counters, did electrical work, removed what we didn’t want there...

And so on.

We packed up everything in our place, everything in storage, and brought it up here where all of it had a place to be.

And when we’re done, Kimmer shows me a miniature of our new house that she’s constructed from paper. It’s an architectural model with a removable roof. Walls under there and everything.

She was showing me this... so she could walk me through all the changes we were gonna make.

Not even settled into our new home and already she had plans to remodel.

The whole thing was quite detailed. I think there were even labels in there.

And it was all about what was gonna be.

Fast forward to today.

Yesterday was Linzy’s last performance with the worship team at Silver Creek Family Church. It’s a next step in her life as she begins to center that life in Seattle.

Kimmer thought it’d be a nice thing to acknowledge Linzy’s work at Silver Creek with lunch at Hop Jack’s in Lynnwood. To which Linzy texted an immediate

Yes!

They set a time for 130 and, at 130, Kimmer ‘n I were pulling out of the driveway.

I won’t assign blame here, but Kimmer did just discover that very morning how she could make short promotional videos for her medical practice using her laptop’s webcam and Movie Maker.

There might be a correlation there, I’m thinking.

Anyway.

Linzy was already sitting in a booth by the patio window when we left. Later she told us how, when she first arrived at the restaurant, the hostess asked if Linzy wanted to sit in the bar or in the dining room.

In the bar.

Or in the dining room.

Yeah.

Linzy was feeling pretty good about her adult self just then.

We were only ten minutes late, by the way. 

Okay ten minutes and thirty seconds late ‘cause I just had to meet Oscar, the big black Labrador Retriever lounging on the patio waiting for his owners to finish their meals.

Oscar ‘n I are buds now.

It’s only thirty seconds, but Kimmer’s already got the front door to Hop Jack’s open, waving me over.

She heads in as I move toward the door and, once I’m inside, I see her well on her way to the back windows next to the patio.

By the time I find my way back there to join Kimmer and Linzy, I’m treated to a hugely familiar sight. One that’s twenty years in the making.

You see, Linzy’s got her sketchbook out and she’s drawing the architectural details of the apartment we’re all hoping, hoping she’ll move into.

Kitchen, dining room, living room, bedroom, bathroom, front closet, and entryway. It’s all there.

She’s showing cabinets and the kitchen pass-through.

She’s indicating where her bed will be, where the couch goes, how a bookshelf fits behind the couch in the middle of the living room.

There’s the table that now sits in our home office... placed into the dining room of the new apartment.

There’s an upright piano without an exact place to be just yet.

And so on.

It’s Linzy’s plan for what’s gonna be.

Wow.

Aside from our daughter showing off some serious adulting skills, yesterday was an unexpected throwback to Once Upon A Time...

We bought a house.

[emoryjrice71]

A Simple Trench Drain

Simple Trench Drain TIPS

Water travels down slope sideways through soil

Watch french drain pipe video below!

6-inch-wide trench with perforated drain tile

Fill to top with rounded gravel

PURCHASE DIY DVD for Easy Install! CLICK HERE TO BUY

DEAR TIM: Every spring, soggy soil in my yard prohibits me from getting a start on my spring yard chores. During periods of heavy rain, water flows toward my house causing periodic flooding.

Can this water be stopped? Is there a way to remove the water and dry out the soil? If so, do you think an average homeowner can complete the project successfully? Betsy, Wyoming, PA

DEAR BETSY: I’ve got some great news for you. If you can enlist the help of a friend for just one weekend, you’ll be able to prevent basement or crawlspace flooding and dry out the soil.

Your early spring fever problems and flooding concerns can be cured permanently with some simple linear French drains. Some people call these ingenious in-ground gutters trench drains because you dig a trench.

French Drain Piper Captures Water

Normal soil makeup consists of small pieces of rock, organic debris, water and air. In many soils (especially clay soils), the air content is highest in the upper 24 inches. As you go deeper into a soil, the weight of the overlying material compresses the soil and squeezes out the air.

When it rains, water enters soil and pushes the air to the surface. Gravity then takes over.

CLICK HERE to get FREE & FAST BIDS from local landscapers who can install your linear french drain.

More French Drain Content:

Trench Drain at My Last House

Drainage Tips

Water Moves Sideways Towards the French Drain Pipe

If your yard slopes,and every yard and neighborhood has some slope, the water within the soil actually begins to flow downhill. Level yards suffer as the movement of the water through the soil is minimal.

You can accelerate the movement of water or intercept and re-direct sub-surface water by installing gravel covered perforated drainage pipes in narrow trenches. Water, just like most things, takes the path of least resistance. Subsurface water would much rather travel through gravel and open drain pipes than force its way through soil.

A Ground Gutter

A linear French drain is simply a “moat”, or gutter-in-the-ground, that protects your yard or house from sub-surface or surface water. You construct it by digging a 6 inch wide trench approximately 24 inches deep.

Cross-section of a Linear French Drain including the all-important perforated french drain pipe. Copyright 2017 Tim Carter ALL RIGHTS RESERVED - Do NOT COPY this graphic.

If you want to intercept sub-surface water to dry out your yard, you install the trench along the highest part of your property. Extend the trench to the lowest part of your yard. If your intent is to protect your house from water, you construct the trench approximately 4-6 feet away from the foundation.

In many cases the trench system is U shaped as it passes around your house.

Do your own DIY install of a Linear French Drain with Tim Carter’s time-tested methods and materials! CLICK IMAGE TO ORDER NOW!

Create a Lattice

If your yard is nearly level and you wish to drain it, you will probably have to dig a series of trenches and inter-connect them. Consider renting a builder’s level at a tool rental store to help you determine how deep to dig the trenches

Lots that appear flat often have sufficient slope that allows you to install the pipes so that they will extend to daylight at the lowest portion of your yard. You can use the optical or laser builder’s level to tell you the high and low portions of your lot.

The bottom of the trench can be level or it can follow the contour of your yard much like a fence. If you can expose the end of the pipe to daylight at the edge of your property, you will obtain the best drainage results.

French Drain Pipe Video

Watch this video to see water flowing out of a perforated french drain pipe in my own yard! You can’t believe how well these work.

CLICK HERE to get FREE & FAST BIDS from local landscapers who can install your linear french drain.

Compact Dirt

Remember, the holes in the perforated pipe point down. If they point up, they get clogged by pieces of gravel. Image © Copyright 2017 Tim Carter ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Once you have the trench completed, compact any loose soil in the bottom of the trench. A 6-foot tall 4x4 works well for this purpose. Wear gloves to avoid getting splinters. Install a 1 or 2-inch layer of washed gravel on top of the compacted soil before you install the perforated piping. Do NOT lay the piping directly on the soil. You want the drainage holes through which water will enter to be up above the soil.

If you choose to use rigid plastic pipe that has two rows of holes along each length, be sure to install it correctly. The holes are supposed to point down, not up towards the sky.

Pipes Holes Down

The reasons the holes should point down are many. Remember that the water table in the soil builds from the bottom to the top of the soil profile. If the holes point down, the water enters the pipe sooner than if the holes pointed up. Also, water droplets or flow is not intelligent. It can’t “see” the holes in the pipe and aim for them as it flows down through the gravel. Some water may find its way into a hole pointing up, but most of the water will flow around the pipe and then build up until it can flow into the holes.

Furthermore, holes that point up are perfect targets to get clogged with the rounded gravel. Always keep in mind the pipe is acting as a conduit for the water and the water table in wet periods is already up to the bottom of the holes. If the water table rises higher than the holes, then water squirts vigorously into the holes and is carried away by the pipe just as water charges down a stream bed in nature.

Fill To Top

After the pipe is installed in the trench, cover it with 1 inch or larger washed, rounded gravel. Fill the trench with gravel to within 1 inch of the surface. Place a piece of sod over the gravel to disguise the trench.

If you wish to control surface water that flows over your lot, allow the gravel to extend completely to the surface. If you widen the trench in the upper few inches of the soil, you can disguise the drainage system. Use colored stones, gravel or large stepping stones to create a walkway. To further enhance the illusion, install the trench with gentle curves as it traverses your lot.

CLICK HERE to get FREE & FAST BIDS from local landscapers who can install your linear french drain.

Column 175

Do you wonder if linear French drains really work?

Read an e-mail I received from Pat Jones in Vienna, Virginia:

A year ago last spring, I called your radio show from my home in Vienna, VA. I described my problem with water in my basement. It was very predictable, every time it rained 2" or more in 24 hours I would get water in my basement. Anyway, you advised me that a French drain would solve my problem.

So I rented the ditch witch and got a bunch of friends, following your on-line tips we installed the drain. Your tip about the plywood to have the dirt flow onto was a great labor saver. We did have a lot of trouble with rocks and tree roots stalling the machine but in the end it was a job well done.

Of course our work and your advice caused the drought in the Washington, DC area. We waited almost a year and a half before we got to really test the French drain. However when hurricane Floyd came through and gave us 4" in less than a day and the basement was high and dry I figured it was worth the drought. Now the neighbors are asking my advice, and I point them to your web page.

When we talked you said to let you know how it worked out. It worked out great!!

Thank you very much,

Patrick Jones

The straw layer mentioned in the column above is not necessary if you fill the entire trench with gravel to within one inch of the top. The reason is simple: Silt does not pass sideways through topsoil. The silt that turns stormwater runoff brown is eroded soil particles that are running in overland flow.

Silt particles get trapped and filtered in the upper layers of top soil. The vast amount of water captured by a linear French drain is water traveling sideways through soil. It is generally clear and free of silt. To prove this point, spring water and water taken from underground wells is almost always crystal clear. The silt was left behind at the surface as the water was entering the ground.

Tim Carter

I received this email recently:

Tim,

We have a block and beam foundation, clay soil, no gutters and we end up with pools of water right next to the house and sometimes covering most of the back and side yard. In some places the water goes under the house. Because the soil is already about 6" or less from the wood siding and we need to maintain ventilation we can’t build up with additional soil. It seems that if the trench is 4-6’ from the house that a lot of water will still be pooling and going under the house. Mr. Gardner from Houston, Texas.

Here is the answer:

It is important that you put the drain that far out because if placed close to the house, the French drain acts like a vacuum and pulls the water through capillary attraction. You would be pulling the water to the house.

You need to create a slope from where the soil hits against the house to a spot about 6 feet out. Since you cannot do this by adding soil … remove some. Create a slope and install the linear French drain.

Click here to order Tim’s DVD with the step-by-step procedure for installing a Linear French Drain and keeping your basement dry.

You may wonder if my advice is worth anything. Well, read what Jim Sanders wrote to me when he was at the end of his rope:

“Hi, I just wanted to write to give you the results of my “Trench Drain”. I have had a wet crawlspace for 15 years. Water would fill the crawlspace at times, so we actually had to drill weepholes at the base so that it would enter the basement and eventually, the sump pump.

I have tried everything. Several contractors said that the only thing we could do was to bring the water into the house via drainage tile and let it enter the sump pump. That would work, but because I live on a 6’ elevation, there is no reason that I should have water problems. It became like clockwork…when it rained, we would rush home from the lake or wherever we were vacationing so that we could be prepared to start the backup generator, in case the power failed. We even had our alarm company put a sump alarm on our system, so they could notify us if we had a power failure. Battery backup was not an option, because sometimes we loose power for days and during any rain, our sump would run every 7 minutes…just like clockwork.

I found your site and read the article on the trench or French drain. At first, it sounded a bit like “holistic healing” to me. I failed to understand why a 2 ft. deep trench, 4 ft. away from the house would do any good. How could this simple thing correct an extreme water problem that has plagued me for years, cracked my foundation, settled my garage floor and ruined almost every vacation?

The Linear French Drain trench running from the house. PHOTO CREDIT: Jim Sanders

I decided “what the heck”. I had to dig by hand using a trenching spade and a pick-axe, because the builder back-filled our property with brick and blacktop. It took quite a bit of time. Because the ground level varies so much on that side of the house, I was not able to achieve exactly 2 ft. deep. It varied from 18” to 30" in spots, but the slope was downhill. The trench is about 80 ft. long. At times, I thought about filling it all in, because I just didn’t believe that it would work.

I stoned it, put tile in, and filled it with #1 round stone. I socked the pipe just for safety measure and I also used geotext fabric on top, so I could cover with dirt and grass. I also ordered some clay and pitched from the house to the drain.

After a short rain, water is running away from the house. PHOTO CREDIT: Jim Sanders

Result? For the last month, we have had 7 or 8 torrential rains, the worst of which was last night. It rained so hard, that our lawn washed out in spots because of the high clay content. Our sump pump, that normally ran every 7 minutes during and after rain, has not turned on for 4 weeks. The silt at the bottom of the sump well is now dry and cracking. Our crawlspace has not shown a trace of water or even moisture.

Since I couldn’t see correcting the foundation cracks or the garage floor settling and tilting until I corrected the problem’s source, I waited to see if the trench drain worked first.

This week, I had a company come in and perform sort of a “mud-jacking” technique on the garage floor, which worked perfectly. Also, during the past few weeks, I parged the cracks in the foundation.

A dry sump pump. PHOTO CREDIT: Jim Sanders

I just wanted you to know how this worked. I stressed for many years over this issue and the solution was nowhere near as difficult as I thought it would be.

As a side note, I went to the end of the drain tile during a hard rain to see what was happening. Water was running out of the drain tile in about the same exact volume that it previously ran out of the weep holes in my crawlspace. This winter will be interesting, because last year, the ground next to the house was so saturated that during a thaw, my sump would run constantly. I’m guessing that the ground between the trench and the house will probably be drier now going into this winter.“

- Jim Sanders, Upstate area - New York

Want a step-by-step procedure on installing a Linear French Drain? Tim’s Linear French Drain Video Series DVD shows you how to keep your basement and crawl spaces dry. CLICK HERE or on the image below to order Tim’s DVD.

[allardjeremyballard]

A Simple Trench Drain

Simple Trench Drain TIPS

Water travels down slope sideways through soil

Watch french drain pipe video below!

6-inch-wide trench with perforated drain tile

Fill to top with rounded gravel

PURCHASE DIY DVD for Easy Install! CLICK HERE TO BUY

DEAR TIM: Every spring, soggy soil in my yard prohibits me from getting a start on my spring yard chores. During periods of heavy rain, water flows toward my house causing periodic flooding.

Can this water be stopped? Is there a way to remove the water and dry out the soil? If so, do you think an average homeowner can complete the project successfully? Betsy, Wyoming, PA

DEAR BETSY: I've got some great news for you. If you can enlist the help of a friend for just one weekend, you'll be able to prevent basement or crawlspace flooding and dry out the soil.

Your early spring fever problems and flooding concerns can be cured permanently with some simple linear French drains. Some people call these ingenious in-ground gutters trench drains because you dig a trench.

French Drain Piper Captures Water

Normal soil makeup consists of small pieces of rock, organic debris, water and air. In many soils (especially clay soils), the air content is highest in the upper 24 inches. As you go deeper into a soil, the weight of the overlying material compresses the soil and squeezes out the air.

When it rains, water enters soil and pushes the air to the surface. Gravity then takes over.

CLICK HERE to get FREE & FAST BIDS from local landscapers who can install your linear french drain.

More French Drain Content:

Trench Drain at My Last House

Drainage Tips

Water Moves Sideways Towards the French Drain Pipe

If your yard slopes,and every yard and neighborhood has some slope, the water within the soil actually begins to flow downhill. Level yards suffer as the movement of the water through the soil is minimal.

You can accelerate the movement of water or intercept and re-direct sub-surface water by installing gravel covered perforated drainage pipes in narrow trenches. Water, just like most things, takes the path of least resistance. Subsurface water would much rather travel through gravel and open drain pipes than force its way through soil.

A Ground Gutter

A linear French drain is simply a "moat", or gutter-in-the-ground, that protects your yard or house from sub-surface or surface water. You construct it by digging a 6 inch wide trench approximately 24 inches deep.

Cross-section of a Linear French Drain including the all-important perforated french drain pipe. Copyright 2017 Tim Carter ALL RIGHTS RESERVED - Do NOT COPY this graphic.

If you want to intercept sub-surface water to dry out your yard, you install the trench along the highest part of your property. Extend the trench to the lowest part of your yard. If your intent is to protect your house from water, you construct the trench approximately 4-6 feet away from the foundation.

In many cases the trench system is U shaped as it passes around your house.

Do your own DIY install of a Linear French Drain with Tim Carter's time-tested methods and materials! CLICK IMAGE TO ORDER NOW!

Create a Lattice

If your yard is nearly level and you wish to drain it, you will probably have to dig a series of trenches and inter-connect them. Consider renting a builder's level at a tool rental store to help you determine how deep to dig the trenches

Lots that appear flat often have sufficient slope that allows you to install the pipes so that they will extend to daylight at the lowest portion of your yard. You can use the optical or laser builder's level to tell you the high and low portions of your lot.

The bottom of the trench can be level or it can follow the contour of your yard much like a fence. If you can expose the end of the pipe to daylight at the edge of your property, you will obtain the best drainage results.

French Drain Pipe Video

Watch this video to see water flowing out of a perforated french drain pipe in my own yard! You can't believe how well these work.

CLICK HERE to get FREE & FAST BIDS from local landscapers who can install your linear french drain.

Compact Dirt

Remember, the holes in the perforated pipe point down. If they point up, they get clogged by pieces of gravel. Image (C) Copyright 2017 Tim Carter ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Once you have the trench completed, compact any loose soil in the bottom of the trench. A 6-foot tall 4x4 works well for this purpose. Wear gloves to avoid getting splinters. Install a 1 or 2-inch layer of washed gravel on top of the compacted soil before you install the perforated piping. Do NOT lay the piping directly on the soil. You want the drainage holes through which water will enter to be up above the soil.

If you choose to use rigid plastic pipe that has two rows of holes along each length, be sure to install it correctly. The holes are supposed to point down, not up towards the sky.

Pipes Holes Down

The reasons the holes should point down are many. Remember that the water table in the soil builds from the bottom to the top of the soil profile. If the holes point down, the water enters the pipe sooner than if the holes pointed up. Also, water droplets or flow is not intelligent. It can't "see" the holes in the pipe and aim for them as it flows down through the gravel. Some water may find its way into a hole pointing up, but most of the water will flow around the pipe and then build up until it can flow into the holes.

Furthermore, holes that point up are perfect targets to get clogged with the rounded gravel. Always keep in mind the pipe is acting as a conduit for the water and the water table in wet periods is already up to the bottom of the holes. If the water table rises higher than the holes, then water squirts vigorously into the holes and is carried away by the pipe just as water charges down a stream bed in nature.

Fill To Top

After the pipe is installed in the trench, cover it with 1 inch or larger washed, rounded gravel. Fill the trench with gravel to within 1 inch of the surface. Place a piece of sod over the gravel to disguise the trench.

If you wish to control surface water that flows over your lot, allow the gravel to extend completely to the surface. If you widen the trench in the upper few inches of the soil, you can disguise the drainage system. Use colored stones, gravel or large stepping stones to create a walkway. To further enhance the illusion, install the trench with gentle curves as it traverses your lot.

CLICK HERE to get FREE & FAST BIDS from local landscapers who can install your linear french drain.

Column 175

Do you wonder if linear French drains really work?

Read an e-mail I received from Pat Jones in Vienna, Virginia:

A year ago last spring, I called your radio show from my home in Vienna, VA. I described my problem with water in my basement. It was very predictable, every time it rained 2" or more in 24 hours I would get water in my basement. Anyway, you advised me that a French drain would solve my problem.

So I rented the ditch witch and got a bunch of friends, following your on-line tips we installed the drain. Your tip about the plywood to have the dirt flow onto was a great labor saver. We did have a lot of trouble with rocks and tree roots stalling the machine but in the end it was a job well done.

Of course our work and your advice caused the drought in the Washington, DC area. We waited almost a year and a half before we got to really test the French drain. However when hurricane Floyd came through and gave us 4" in less than a day and the basement was high and dry I figured it was worth the drought. Now the neighbors are asking my advice, and I point them to your web page.

When we talked you said to let you know how it worked out. It worked out great!!

Thank you very much,

Patrick Jones

  The straw layer mentioned in the column above is not necessary if you fill the entire trench with gravel to within one inch of the top. The reason is simple: Silt does not pass sideways through topsoil. The silt that turns stormwater runoff brown is eroded soil particles that are running in overland flow.

Silt particles get trapped and filtered in the upper layers of top soil. The vast amount of water captured by a linear French drain is water traveling sideways through soil. It is generally clear and free of silt. To prove this point, spring water and water taken from underground wells is almost always crystal clear. The silt was left behind at the surface as the water was entering the ground.

Tim Carter

  I received this email recently:

Tim,

We have a block and beam foundation, clay soil, no gutters and we end up with pools of water right next to the house and sometimes covering most of the back and side yard. In some places the water goes under the house. Because the soil is already about 6" or less from the wood siding and we need to maintain ventilation we can't build up with additional soil. It seems that if the trench is 4-6' from the house that a lot of water will still be pooling and going under the house. Mr. Gardner from Houston, Texas.

Here is the answer:

It is important that you put the drain that far out because if placed close to the house, the French drain acts like a vacuum and pulls the water through capillary attraction. You would be pulling the water to the house.

You need to create a slope from where the soil hits against the house to a spot about 6 feet out. Since you cannot do this by adding soil ... remove some. Create a slope and install the linear French drain.

Click here to order Tim's DVD with the step-by-step procedure for installing a Linear French Drain and keeping your basement dry.

  You may wonder if my advice is worth anything. Well, read what Jim Sanders wrote to me when he was at the end of his rope:

"Hi, I just wanted to write to give you the results of my "Trench Drain". I have had a wet crawlspace for 15 years. Water would fill the crawlspace at times, so we actually had to drill weepholes at the base so that it would enter the basement and eventually, the sump pump.

I have tried everything. Several contractors said that the only thing we could do was to bring the water into the house via drainage tile and let it enter the sump pump. That would work, but because I live on a 6' elevation, there is no reason that I should have water problems. It became like clockwork...when it rained, we would rush home from the lake or wherever we were vacationing so that we could be prepared to start the backup generator, in case the power failed. We even had our alarm company put a sump alarm on our system, so they could notify us if we had a power failure. Battery backup was not an option, because sometimes we loose power for days and during any rain, our sump would run every 7 minutes...just like clockwork.

I found your site and read the article on the trench or French drain. At first, it sounded a bit like "holistic healing" to me. I failed to understand why a 2 ft. deep trench, 4 ft. away from the house would do any good. How could this simple thing correct an extreme water problem that has plagued me for years, cracked my foundation, settled my garage floor and ruined almost every vacation?

The Linear French Drain trench running from the house. PHOTO CREDIT: Jim Sanders

I decided "what the heck". I had to dig by hand using a trenching spade and a pick-axe, because the builder back-filled our property with brick and blacktop. It took quite a bit of time. Because the ground level varies so much on that side of the house, I was not able to achieve exactly 2 ft. deep. It varied from 18" to 30" in spots, but the slope was downhill. The trench is about 80 ft. long. At times, I thought about filling it all in, because I just didn’t believe that it would work.

I stoned it, put tile in, and filled it with #1 round stone. I socked the pipe just for safety measure and I also used geotext fabric on top, so I could cover with dirt and grass. I also ordered some clay and pitched from the house to the drain.

After a short rain, water is running away from the house. PHOTO CREDIT: Jim Sanders

Result? For the last month, we have had 7 or 8 torrential rains, the worst of which was last night. It rained so hard, that our lawn washed out in spots because of the high clay content. Our sump pump, that normally ran every 7 minutes during and after rain, has not turned on for 4 weeks. The silt at the bottom of the sump well is now dry and cracking. Our crawlspace has not shown a trace of water or even moisture.

Since I couldn’t see correcting the foundation cracks or the garage floor settling and tilting until I corrected the problem's source, I waited to see if the trench drain worked first.

This week, I had a company come in and perform sort of a "mud-jacking" technique on the garage floor, which worked perfectly. Also, during the past few weeks, I parged the cracks in the foundation.

A dry sump pump. PHOTO CREDIT: Jim Sanders

I just wanted you to know how this worked. I stressed for many years over this issue and the solution was nowhere near as difficult as I thought it would be.

As a side note, I went to the end of the drain tile during a hard rain to see what was happening. Water was running out of the drain tile in about the same exact volume that it previously ran out of the weep holes in my crawlspace. This winter will be interesting, because last year, the ground next to the house was so saturated that during a thaw, my sump would run constantly. I'm guessing that the ground between the trench and the house will probably be drier now going into this winter."

- Jim Sanders, Upstate area - New York

Want a step-by-step procedure on installing a Linear French Drain? Tim's Linear French Drain Video Series DVD shows you how to keep your basement and crawl spaces dry. CLICK HERE or on the image below to order Tim's DVD.

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8247360 https://www.askthebuilder.com/a-simple-trench-drain/ via http://www.rssmix.com/

[andrewmawby]

A Simple Trench Drain

Simple Trench Drain TIPS

Water travels down slope sideways through soil

Watch french drain pipe video below!

6-inch-wide trench with perforated drain tile

Fill to top with rounded gravel

PURCHASE DIY DVD for Easy Install! CLICK HERE TO BUY

DEAR TIM: Every spring, soggy soil in my yard prohibits me from getting a start on my spring yard chores. During periods of heavy rain, water flows toward my house causing periodic flooding.

Can this water be stopped? Is there a way to remove the water and dry out the soil? If so, do you think an average homeowner can complete the project successfully? Betsy, Wyoming, PA

DEAR BETSY: I've got some great news for you. If you can enlist the help of a friend for just one weekend, you'll be able to prevent basement or crawlspace flooding and dry out the soil.

Your early spring fever problems and flooding concerns can be cured permanently with some simple linear French drains. Some people call these ingenious in-ground gutters trench drains because you dig a trench.

French Drain Piper Captures Water

Normal soil makeup consists of small pieces of rock, organic debris, water and air. In many soils (especially clay soils), the air content is highest in the upper 24 inches. As you go deeper into a soil, the weight of the overlying material compresses the soil and squeezes out the air.

When it rains, water enters soil and pushes the air to the surface. Gravity then takes over.

CLICK HERE to get FREE & FAST BIDS from local landscapers who can install your linear french drain.

More French Drain Content:

Trench Drain at My Last House

Drainage Tips

Water Moves Sideways Towards the French Drain Pipe

If your yard slopes,and every yard and neighborhood has some slope, the water within the soil actually begins to flow downhill. Level yards suffer as the movement of the water through the soil is minimal.

You can accelerate the movement of water or intercept and re-direct sub-surface water by installing gravel covered perforated drainage pipes in narrow trenches. Water, just like most things, takes the path of least resistance. Subsurface water would much rather travel through gravel and open drain pipes than force its way through soil.

A Ground Gutter

A linear French drain is simply a "moat", or gutter-in-the-ground, that protects your yard or house from sub-surface or surface water. You construct it by digging a 6 inch wide trench approximately 24 inches deep.

Cross-section of a Linear French Drain including the all-important perforated french drain pipe. Copyright 2017 Tim Carter ALL RIGHTS RESERVED - Do NOT COPY this graphic.

If you want to intercept sub-surface water to dry out your yard, you install the trench along the highest part of your property. Extend the trench to the lowest part of your yard. If your intent is to protect your house from water, you construct the trench approximately 4-6 feet away from the foundation.

In many cases the trench system is U shaped as it passes around your house.

Do your own DIY install of a Linear French Drain with Tim Carter's time-tested methods and materials! CLICK IMAGE TO ORDER NOW!

Create a Lattice

If your yard is nearly level and you wish to drain it, you will probably have to dig a series of trenches and inter-connect them. Consider renting a builder's level at a tool rental store to help you determine how deep to dig the trenches

Lots that appear flat often have sufficient slope that allows you to install the pipes so that they will extend to daylight at the lowest portion of your yard. You can use the optical or laser builder's level to tell you the high and low portions of your lot.

The bottom of the trench can be level or it can follow the contour of your yard much like a fence. If you can expose the end of the pipe to daylight at the edge of your property, you will obtain the best drainage results.

French Drain Pipe Video

Watch this video to see water flowing out of a perforated french drain pipe in my own yard! You can't believe how well these work.

CLICK HERE to get FREE & FAST BIDS from local landscapers who can install your linear french drain.

Compact Dirt

Remember, the holes in the perforated pipe point down. If they point up, they get clogged by pieces of gravel. Image (C) Copyright 2017 Tim Carter ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Once you have the trench completed, compact any loose soil in the bottom of the trench. A 6-foot tall 4x4 works well for this purpose. Wear gloves to avoid getting splinters. Install a 1 or 2-inch layer of washed gravel on top of the compacted soil before you install the perforated piping. Do NOT lay the piping directly on the soil. You want the drainage holes through which water will enter to be up above the soil.

If you choose to use rigid plastic pipe that has two rows of holes along each length, be sure to install it correctly. The holes are supposed to point down, not up towards the sky.

Pipes Holes Down

The reasons the holes should point down are many. Remember that the water table in the soil builds from the bottom to the top of the soil profile. If the holes point down, the water enters the pipe sooner than if the holes pointed up. Also, water droplets or flow is not intelligent. It can't "see" the holes in the pipe and aim for them as it flows down through the gravel. Some water may find its way into a hole pointing up, but most of the water will flow around the pipe and then build up until it can flow into the holes.

Furthermore, holes that point up are perfect targets to get clogged with the rounded gravel. Always keep in mind the pipe is acting as a conduit for the water and the water table in wet periods is already up to the bottom of the holes. If the water table rises higher than the holes, then water squirts vigorously into the holes and is carried away by the pipe just as water charges down a stream bed in nature.

Fill To Top

After the pipe is installed in the trench, cover it with 1 inch or larger washed, rounded gravel. Fill the trench with gravel to within 1 inch of the surface. Place a piece of sod over the gravel to disguise the trench.

If you wish to control surface water that flows over your lot, allow the gravel to extend completely to the surface. If you widen the trench in the upper few inches of the soil, you can disguise the drainage system. Use colored stones, gravel or large stepping stones to create a walkway. To further enhance the illusion, install the trench with gentle curves as it traverses your lot.

CLICK HERE to get FREE & FAST BIDS from local landscapers who can install your linear french drain.

Column 175

Do you wonder if linear French drains really work?

Read an e-mail I received from Pat Jones in Vienna, Virginia:

A year ago last spring, I called your radio show from my home in Vienna, VA. I described my problem with water in my basement. It was very predictable, every time it rained 2" or more in 24 hours I would get water in my basement. Anyway, you advised me that a French drain would solve my problem.

So I rented the ditch witch and got a bunch of friends, following your on-line tips we installed the drain. Your tip about the plywood to have the dirt flow onto was a great labor saver. We did have a lot of trouble with rocks and tree roots stalling the machine but in the end it was a job well done.

Of course our work and your advice caused the drought in the Washington, DC area. We waited almost a year and a half before we got to really test the French drain. However when hurricane Floyd came through and gave us 4" in less than a day and the basement was high and dry I figured it was worth the drought. Now the neighbors are asking my advice, and I point them to your web page.

When we talked you said to let you know how it worked out. It worked out great!!

Thank you very much,

Patrick Jones

  The straw layer mentioned in the column above is not necessary if you fill the entire trench with gravel to within one inch of the top. The reason is simple: Silt does not pass sideways through topsoil. The silt that turns stormwater runoff brown is eroded soil particles that are running in overland flow.

Silt particles get trapped and filtered in the upper layers of top soil. The vast amount of water captured by a linear French drain is water traveling sideways through soil. It is generally clear and free of silt. To prove this point, spring water and water taken from underground wells is almost always crystal clear. The silt was left behind at the surface as the water was entering the ground.

Tim Carter

  I received this email recently:

Tim,

We have a block and beam foundation, clay soil, no gutters and we end up with pools of water right next to the house and sometimes covering most of the back and side yard. In some places the water goes under the house. Because the soil is already about 6" or less from the wood siding and we need to maintain ventilation we can't build up with additional soil. It seems that if the trench is 4-6' from the house that a lot of water will still be pooling and going under the house. Mr. Gardner from Houston, Texas.

Here is the answer:

It is important that you put the drain that far out because if placed close to the house, the French drain acts like a vacuum and pulls the water through capillary attraction. You would be pulling the water to the house.

You need to create a slope from where the soil hits against the house to a spot about 6 feet out. Since you cannot do this by adding soil ... remove some. Create a slope and install the linear French drain.

Click here to order Tim's DVD with the step-by-step procedure for installing a Linear French Drain and keeping your basement dry.

  You may wonder if my advice is worth anything. Well, read what Jim Sanders wrote to me when he was at the end of his rope:

"Hi, I just wanted to write to give you the results of my "Trench Drain". I have had a wet crawlspace for 15 years. Water would fill the crawlspace at times, so we actually had to drill weepholes at the base so that it would enter the basement and eventually, the sump pump.

I have tried everything. Several contractors said that the only thing we could do was to bring the water into the house via drainage tile and let it enter the sump pump. That would work, but because I live on a 6' elevation, there is no reason that I should have water problems. It became like clockwork...when it rained, we would rush home from the lake or wherever we were vacationing so that we could be prepared to start the backup generator, in case the power failed. We even had our alarm company put a sump alarm on our system, so they could notify us if we had a power failure. Battery backup was not an option, because sometimes we loose power for days and during any rain, our sump would run every 7 minutes...just like clockwork.

I found your site and read the article on the trench or French drain. At first, it sounded a bit like "holistic healing" to me. I failed to understand why a 2 ft. deep trench, 4 ft. away from the house would do any good. How could this simple thing correct an extreme water problem that has plagued me for years, cracked my foundation, settled my garage floor and ruined almost every vacation?

The Linear French Drain trench running from the house. PHOTO CREDIT: Jim Sanders

I decided "what the heck". I had to dig by hand using a trenching spade and a pick-axe, because the builder back-filled our property with brick and blacktop. It took quite a bit of time. Because the ground level varies so much on that side of the house, I was not able to achieve exactly 2 ft. deep. It varied from 18" to 30" in spots, but the slope was downhill. The trench is about 80 ft. long. At times, I thought about filling it all in, because I just didn’t believe that it would work.

I stoned it, put tile in, and filled it with #1 round stone. I socked the pipe just for safety measure and I also used geotext fabric on top, so I could cover with dirt and grass. I also ordered some clay and pitched from the house to the drain.

After a short rain, water is running away from the house. PHOTO CREDIT: Jim Sanders

Result? For the last month, we have had 7 or 8 torrential rains, the worst of which was last night. It rained so hard, that our lawn washed out in spots because of the high clay content. Our sump pump, that normally ran every 7 minutes during and after rain, has not turned on for 4 weeks. The silt at the bottom of the sump well is now dry and cracking. Our crawlspace has not shown a trace of water or even moisture.

Since I couldn’t see correcting the foundation cracks or the garage floor settling and tilting until I corrected the problem's source, I waited to see if the trench drain worked first.

This week, I had a company come in and perform sort of a "mud-jacking" technique on the garage floor, which worked perfectly. Also, during the past few weeks, I parged the cracks in the foundation.

A dry sump pump. PHOTO CREDIT: Jim Sanders

I just wanted you to know how this worked. I stressed for many years over this issue and the solution was nowhere near as difficult as I thought it would be.

As a side note, I went to the end of the drain tile during a hard rain to see what was happening. Water was running out of the drain tile in about the same exact volume that it previously ran out of the weep holes in my crawlspace. This winter will be interesting, because last year, the ground next to the house was so saturated that during a thaw, my sump would run constantly. I'm guessing that the ground between the trench and the house will probably be drier now going into this winter."

- Jim Sanders, Upstate area - New York

Want a step-by-step procedure on installing a Linear French Drain? Tim's Linear French Drain Video Series DVD shows you how to keep your basement and crawl spaces dry. CLICK HERE or on the image below to order Tim's DVD.

from builders feed https://www.askthebuilder.com/a-simple-trench-drain/ via http://www.rssmix.com/