Puppy-Proof Fence, no. 1

A 1.8m fence is probably overkill for a six-week-old puppy, which we are collecting next weekend, but the last one grew to over 70kgs, so it seems like a good idea to be prepared!

Most of the palings leaning up against the wall were salvaged from a large crate that M. and I dismantled (it was huge, built for some sort of motor; and was left outside a factory with a "free crate" sign on it)—the rest of the crate will supply all the palings for Puppy Fence 2.

The upright on the right is fixed to a stirrup pin, keeping it off the ground and away from termites. As you can see below, we had to create an angled edge and then sew the existing chain-link fence to our new wooden fence with bailing wire! It isn't pretty, but it is effective.

Since the whole fence is bolted into place, it can be removed to let water-tanks and big things like that up the side of the house later on. And when we are not so pressed for time we will paint it. (Really, we have the paint already!)

After three days working on this I just want to return to the weeding, but we have another fence to build by Friday in a much more difficult position.

The Axis of Evil: Ivy, Blackberries and Agapanthus

A long phone conversation to the environmental officer in our local council (who runs their weed-control initiative) convinced me that the sort of crap we are digging out of our garden should go to the tip as green waste. (Said environmental officer has a wonderful name: Bindy Woodland. An example of nominative determinism if ever there was one!)

So, shortly before heading north to Sydney for a very pleasant xmas we dropped into a transfer station (aka the tip) and discovered we could empty a boot load of green waste for $10. So I did a few calculations. One 240 litre green bin, emptied 26 times per year, disposes of 6.24 cubic meters of green waste in a year at a cost of about $100.

Thirteen 76 litre garden waste bags fill my boot, which is 0.98 cubic meters of green waste, which means that the same 6.24 cubic meters of green waste that costs about $100 to put out bit-by-bit over the course of a year in a green bin, can be disposed of for $70, and disposed as fast as you like. Actually, I can get slightly more than thirteen bags in the car, so it probably costs $60 instead of $100.

With these calculations in mind, we returned from a holiday in Sydney to spend a week in the garden dealing with that axis of evil: ivy, blackberries and agapanthus. The Cherry Laurels also made an appearance but they hardly rate in the scheme of things: heaving up ivy always does my back in, blackberries always leave my hands feeling like they have been used as a pin-cushion for poisoned pins—even through heavy leather gloves—and agapanthus I have already waxed lyrical about.

We have exhausted ourselves attacking the weed wonderland on the terrace(s) closest to the road. This area was so overgrown it was not clear at first if there was a terrace, how many terraces there were, what was/is growing on them: anything at all really, because we couldn't see the land and were not stupid enough to jump neck-deep into a jungle of blackberries etc to explore it. Also, a very, very large "branch" (half a tree actually) which had been destroyed by ivy had long since fallen across the terrace(s), blocking any access to part of terrace, and concealing a large area under a curtain of leg-thick vines.

Facing this sort of jungle, only a methodical campaign would do, and so that is what we have embarked on. We have been to the tip five times, and will need to do the same again at least, possibly double that again. I bought a new bush saw and chopped up the tree trunk, and cleared as far as the fence line just in front of (what turned out to be) a lovely stone retaining wall. We are now pressing on in the other direction, but those pictures will have to wait for another day.

Mystery Tree Part 3

Thanks to the sharp eyes and keen horticultural knowledge of a great mate of mine it seems that the mystery plant is a Pin Oak.

Check out Wikipedia for the full lowdown.

Agapanthus, Gum Trees and Ravens

We have been weeding around the base of our gum trees to remove one of the genuine 70s features of our block: the Agapanthus. Very 70s, very noxious weed. Very everywhere. Being very well established it is going to take a lot of time to get rid of all the agapanthus, which mass together in patches that have to be broken up with an axe and then lifted out of the ground in chunks! We decided to start with the two clumps that surround the base of the two gums closest to the driveway.

[before (R) and after (L) removal of agapanthus]

It has taken us a month to do this one patch. And when I say us, I really mean M. I did some of the chopping and heaving, but it was mostly M. This first clump has filled our two 240 litre green bins three times over: so it has taken six weeks to get rid of it. Given how much remains, we will be at this for about six to nine months!

M. sifted the last of the roots from this patch of agapanthus on Saturday. I tidied up the bottom of the drive a little on Sunday, removing the edge of a few agapanthus colonies, some ivy, fallen leaves etc. So, between us, this weekend, we filled two 240 litre green bins; a 120 litre garbage bin, a wheelbarrow, three old 80 litre recycling bins; 13 garden-waste bags; four buckets and one old Sea-Mail shipping sack! We're both knackered and got sunburnt too. It is going to be a long nine months.

[The bottom of the drive, note the freshly-exposed boulders (middle right) that have been—and still are—playing host to ivy, agapanthus, blackerry etc

So, to celebrate our first victory over the agapanthus, here is a cobbled-together tall shot of the monster gum and its companions.

As it happens, an Unkindness of Ravens recently took up residence in the top of our monster gum, the tallest tree in the area. We seem to have about a flock of about forty to sixty ravens. At first we thought it was a murder of crows (the tree is tall and it is hard to see them), but once they started craw-ing at each other, the penny dropped.

They start at about 4.30AM; fortunately/unfortunately, that is about the time we get up anyway, so we don't mind the discordant dawn chorus. The video below is posted for coz J. As opportunities arise I will try to get video of the Kookaburras, Crows, Magpies, Whipbirds etc., but for now the Ravens have frightened them all away.

A Few Light Changes

Remember what I said before about "add cool seventies stuff, remove ugly naughties stuff"? Well, back in August I bought a sensational, 70s copper light fitting off eBay. I really liked it, so I bid hard and paid over $160.

At the time we were so busy negotiating with the banks, loan brokers, agents, raising money, organising inspections, pest and building reports etc ad nauseam, that I didn't have time to collect it. And once we got bank approval we were so busy, packing, cleaning, moving, unpacking etc that I still didn't have time to collect it. So, reluctantly, I had it posted to me.

Luckily, it arrived in one piece. But once it arrived, we still had so many pressing things to do, that it stayed in its box for months. Boxes actually, because the lovely woman who sold this fitting threw in a second 70s, green-glass fitting for free.

Anyway, a few weeks ago I got started on the lights. I pulled out three of the fugly light fittings from the lounge area, and put in efficient, but bland ones, which we can endure until we can get something nicer. Then I pulled out the truly mostrous fitting from the hall, replaced it with the merely ugly one from the bedroom and installed the glorious 70s copper light fitting in the bedroom.

[truly hideous hallway light fitting, removed. What is this, night-club chic?]

[only slightly less ugly bedroom fitting, now in the hall]

[The copper fitting, throwing a golden glow]

[The proper context for the copper fitting; feature wall, teak and black leather bed-head, timber window frames; warm-coloured bedspread and two cats. We're looking forward to getting rid of the curtains, the carpet and repainting the walls]

I then moved on to the toilet, took out a functional fitting from there, put it in the carport, and replaced it with this lovely 70s, green-glass tear-drop shaped fitting.

[The new toilet light]

It wasn't easy, since the dolts who removed the original 70s features of the place destroyed the plasterboard underneath it in the process. All we have to do now is find a nice green and yellow wallpaper, hang a fern in the corner, and replace the tiles …

As for the wiring … who needs junction boxes when you can just connect all the wires inside light fittings. And who really needs to colour code wires? Colour coding is obviously for pansies. It is much more fun to guess which wires are which. After all, what could go wrong? (1st guess, the light wouldn't turn on; 2nd guess, it wouldn't turn off; 3rd time lucky!)

[The bedroom: like to guess what white is? And no, it isn't Earth; meaning one of these groups of wires should have been in a junction box. But which one?]

[The wiring for the toilet light. Note multiple holes and shredded plasterwork]

Carport ideas

This is from today's paper. Somewhere we have another image of a design which is a bit like it, with massive timbers used on an external garden structure.

We need a barbecue like a hole in the head, but we both love the idea of adapting this to an open carport or garage design. And I love the decking-cum-walkway-cum-duckboards. You see them in every bush path.** Anyway, we are considering making a path across the steeply-sloping front of the house on raised duckboards, rather than excavating and landscaping to make a path. It would be less work, no planning approval would be required, there would be more room for native plants … all good.

** I remember many years ago walking the South Cape Bay walk on the Southern tip of Tassie, which alternates between duckboards over button grass plains and shaded forest paths. I decided then that I wanted a place with duckboards! Of course, I also decided then that I wanted a place large enough to need them… Anyway, see the pictures here.

Bathroom ideas

Like millions of others, we keep a clippings file. These bathroom pictures caught my eye, because of the little square, shiny tiles (very 70s, I grew up with a side-table topped in these).

What we like about this first one is only the wall of tiles, with a glass screen that is open at both ends. In this case there is a narrow, free-standing floor-to-ceiling wall obscuring the shower head from the facing wall of mirrors and the skinks. I have seen a version of this where the sink is on the free-standing wall. We couldn't do that in our weenie room, but I am sure we can think of something …

And we just love the tiles in this one. It is the right colour scheme for us, the fab green/blue/gold tiles and the massive black (slate?) tiles behind. The bath itself is butt-ugly, like the sinks above, and the OMFG light-fitting. And pointless, the bath that is. And we don't have room for one anyway. But the wall is yummy.