Sufferin' succotash

Ouchie from overdoing Farmer Davy the past weekend. I'm starting to question whether gardening is actually pleasurable if it causes physical pain.


The past week's cardboard harvest. The kitchen cupboards at the office are bare this morning, I expect another bountiful cardboard harvest this week after Dr Soda makes their delivery to the office.


Trimmed the olive tree to show off it's sexy limbs. My own limbs are still kind of twiggy.


Working on the panda habitat again. Still not happy with the stones. I need to get larger stones. And the ground needs to be a foot lower on the left side for better drainage. At this rate, I'm not going to get my panda this year.


I'm thinking about using some Hollywood Movie Magic to blue-screen in a finished interior. While I'm at it, I can also insert a virtual Halle Berry sitting in my living room.


Green zebra tomato. I hope it does well. I've not had good luck with tomatoes the past two summers. I like the name more than the taste of the tomatoes. Though, the taste is good too. Bright, tart, and sweet. But I think the appeal is mostly because it's named after an animal. I like animals.


I don't remember what this variety of tomato is called. I just remember Jimmy the plant guy at the Hollywood Farmer's Market saying that it's a very flavorful early tomato, then I started drooling and my mind wandered off. Now if it had an animal name, I'd remember the name.


Root beer plant. Also known as hoja santa in Mexico. Leaves are used to wrap chicken or fish. The leaves smell like root beer. It's kind of Dr Suess looking, and edible to boot. My kind of plant.

A watched pot

They put another coat of primer on the ceiling yesterday. Not posting a picture of the ceiling, since it would be incredibly dull. About as dull as watching paint dry.

Morange

Today's favorite word. Tarpaulin. Commonly abbreviated to "tarp."

I spent 3 hours last night intently exploring www.chileplants.com. I'm considering raising a ton of insanely hot chile peppers.

My "Farmer Davy" toys arrived today.


Seed starting kit. Seeds like warm feet, so it's a mini-greenhouse with a heating pad underneath. Funny how the house for my plants will have a working heating system before the real house. And I'm just as excited that the new toys came with packaging that I can play with too. There's the cardboard box that I can use as weed barrier in the garden, AND the corn starch based foam peanuts that are bio-degradable in the compost bin. I'm so giddy. So if the image for the "Hot House" box includes a single tomato, mayhaps the picture on a box of "Brick House" will have TWO very large fleshy tomatos.


The Hot House kit came with a packet of earthworm castings. Castings help seeds germinate. Earthworm casting is just a nicer way to say "worm poo." Premium quality worm poo I might add.


Seeds Seeds Seeds Galore! Mostly organic. Mostly edible. With selected benificial plants that attract bees and hummingbirds to pollinate.

I'm going to invent a word to rhyme with orange, so it can be used in songs and poetry. I'm leaning towards the word "morange."

Morange- the strange icky feeling when your stomach is messed up by eating too many oranges.

Orange so delicious
Orange so fine
Orange so fragrant
And they're all mine.
But now I'm all rumbly
From the very last orange
And it's making me suffer
From that nasty morange.

Need bloomers

I must stop eating oranges. They're so addicting, but wreck your system when eaten in large quantities.


Windows and doors in. I may recycle the blue tarp into shower curtains for upstairs. Seems appropriate.


Windows shimmed and leveled. Not much functionality here since stove and countertops will make opening these sliders very difficult. Fashion before function.


This is the sad state of what's in my refridgerator. Spoilt milk from November. Water and ketchup. And half the oranges have been eaten since yesterday. I need real food soon...


I left a few on the tree to feed the squirrels.


New farm land. If it doesn't rain, I'll be working this area of the yard, digging aimlessly. Which is how I like to work in the garden. Aimlessly. Works for me.


Still ugly from the outside. But at least halfway installed windows let in more sunlight than plywood.


I have the workers trained to save the organic debris for making compost. They even throw sawdust into the compost bin. So nice. And they spent a rainy day cleaning up outside. I have to admire them for that. These guys are pretty good at keeping the work site clean and tidy. Some of the work going on in the neighborhood look like they're being done in a third world country. Or West Virginia.


Lime tree flowering. It looks like a bumper crop coming up this summer. That means lots more key lime pies. Mmmm..... pie.....


A perfect 4 foot tall bird of paradise stalk. One of the good things to come out of the giant rainstorms from earlier this month.

OJ killed my stomach

In bed. Feeling sick. I overdosed on oranges. They were so delicious. Fresh from the trees. Even now, sick in bed, I'm fighting an overwhelming urge to eat another orange. That's how delicious they are.


Fiberglass mat impregnated with polyester resin. Cured with methyl ethyle ketone peroxide as a catalyst. MEKP for short. I know how to do this. Back in school, I destroyed many lung and brain cells working with fiberglass and resins. I'm sure it's all going to give me cancer.


Just the most recent layer on the roof deck. We may be going overboard with waterproofing. Plywood, bituminous membrane, morter, fiberglass and plastic resin. Then more mortar and tile. Whew. Kind of like those english trifle multi-layered desserts. Hhhmm.... why does everything remind me of food.


One window installed. Finally, some sunlight on this side of the house. Well, there would be sunlight if it wasn't night.


Doors moved inside. Forecast calls for rain in the next few days. Mixed feelings about rain. Good for plants. Bad for unfinished wood doors and windows.

Tar pits

What the hell is that smell? Did the refridgerator overload and blow out the motor? What the heck is that foul smell?


Nope. I've got my own La Brea Tar Pits spewing forth in my bathroom. Yeah, the tar pits are one of my favorite places in LA. But really, in my own house? I've got all the windows and doors open and the ionizer going full tilt. Or at least all the windows that are currently attached to the house. Because.........


I can't open these new windows that arrived today. Yes, five hinges on those doors. They are very large heavy doors.


With a giant frame to go along with it. I must admit, the flash on this 4 year old camera is pretty awesome. No other lighting was used for this picture.


The ceiling is smoother. Really. They spent most of the day sanding it. Really, there is a difference.


Bathtub with feet now. It's trying to run away from the tar smell. Ick Ick Ick. Thankfully, it's not going to be 30 degrees tonight. Because I have to sleep with all the windows and doors open.

Scurvy

Giant semi truck brought my slate flooring today. The best part is the bright purple forklift. It has rear wheel steering, and the fork can go up, down, left, right, front, and back. Even has a orange spinning light. It's so cool. I was tempted to trade the slate flooring for the purple forklift.


275 pieces of Silvery Grey slate from Brazil. 2 feet by 2 feet and 8lbs each. 4 giant crates in total. I'd hate to be the person to move a quarter of these tiles upstairs. Purple forklift is 9 feet wide. Doesn't even fit through the fence gate. And I discovered that the tree behind the slate is a blood orange tree. I've always wanted a blood orange tree. This is the first time since I moved in that the tree has set fruit. It was very neglected with poor soil. I spent a lot of time trimming and adding organic compost and mulch and attracting earthworms. I'm very happy that my efforts have borne fruit. (Ha ha. I made a pun.)


I ate three of these today. Blood oranges are my favorite orange variety. So delicious. Wonderful deep red color. WIth a subtle cherry flavor. So delicious. As are the last of the clementine tangerines. Those taste like honey. So delicious. No scurvy for me.


Bathtub getting a makeover. Feet removed, primer applied. The new color will be warm grey to match the glass tile. Yes, the tub is heavy.


Clawfeet with new matte aluminum finish. Now that I've had some close up time with these feet. They're actually pretty scary. What were they thinking? Talons clutching balls- not exactly a relaxing image to have when I'm naked in a bathtub.

Condescending

Enjoy the flatness..... I wrote a nasty-gram email to the architects. Work has been good except for a few things. Gotta keep them on their toes and not let it slip.


Metal railings in. They did a beautiful job on it. I can now ascend and descend the staircase safely. Or I quote the older Chinese generation. "Drive SafeTy."


Plywood is quite ugly. Kind of like a store in a bad mini-mall that's gone out of business.


Condensation on both the inside and outside of the house. Ideal conditions to grow toxic mold. No work further work can be done inside since it's taking forever for the joint compound to dry in this weather.

THEheck

Desert....... nothing around...... Drove to Las Vegas for CES. Long long drive. Alone with my thoughts. My thoughts are like the desert. Empty.


We're staying at THEhotel at Mandalay Bay. The name is lame and tries too hard to be hip. But the rooms are swanky. Real potted plants.


Mirrors everywhere in the bedroom. One is always very self aware in this room. Because only young skinny hip urban people stay here. And they like to look at themselves.


The minibar. I see the jar of $7.00 jelly beans as humor. The label on the key to the mini-fridge says "THEkey."


I thought this was a coat closet. But I opened the door to discover there's another bathroom. Nowhere to hang a coat.


And there is a little sticker label for "THEtp." To wipe "THEass."


Simulated flower in the vase. No label on it calling it "THEflower." I'll have to make one and stick it on.


Lots of brown marble surrounding "THEtub." Sadly, I've been wrapped up in the house thing for a while and I recognize that all the sinks and fixtures are from Kohler.


TV in the bathroom. It's tuned to the shark tank cam at the Mandalay Bay. The TV's are showy in the suite, but like most of what's wrong at CES. No content. TV shows here are lame. Though they do offer 24 hours of continuous porn. But that wouldn't fly on the expense report.


Robe hook looks like a pokemon.


Widescreen makes Alyssa Milano look chubby. Not porn. But nearly so.


I doubled my money in Vegas. I put in a quarter, and got 50 cents.

Caterwalling

No power to the second floor. No TV. The pain. I might have to read a book or something. Sacriligeous!


Extention cord city. Don't show this to the fire department. The not having electricity part doesn't really bother me. I'm disappointed that nobody gave me notice that I won't have electricity tonight. You know, a little note or a phone call would be nice. Silver lining is that I'm developing the patience of a saint. But all the saints I know are long dead. St Thomas the Apostle is the patron saint of construction workers. My research didn't turn up any patron saints for stupid bankrupt people living through remodels. The closest is St Dymphna, the patron saint of insanity.


Joint compound. Layer #2. It's quite humid with all the rain we're having lately. Joint compound is taking it's merry time to cure and dry out. By morning, the windows downstairs are all fogged up. St Francis Xavier Cabrini is the patron saint of immigrants and impossible causes. I hope the two aren't interchageable.


The stripes do make an interesting pattern. Like aligned cylindrical bacteria on a microscope slide. St Fiacre is the patron saint of venereal disease.


Scratch coat of the stucco goes on. It's named for the texture they put on it so the next layer grabs hold and doesn't fall off. I'm imagining a tool where cats are duct taped to a long pole and waved in front of the wall- claws flailing all over the stucco making the scratches. Wailing the whole time. Meeerrrrooowwwww...... St Gertrude, patron saint of cats.


The skeleton of the metal railings. It's obvious no cats were used in fabricating these. Maybe a prayer or two to St Eligius, patron saint of metal workers.


More railings to keep drunken Davy from falling off the balcony. Courtesy of St Monica, the patron saint of alchoholism and married women.