Monday, June 24, 2013
5-hour kayak trip with new friends yesterday, involving bungeejumping treecrabs. And sawing 3" mangrove branches blocking waterways. Also: fruit wine packaged in Capri Sun bags. And, now, a tan which looks like I'm wearing garter stockings.
My landlord is in the air right now, about to start his 10-day wargame by jumping out a plane door with a 60-lb ruck. Into a thunderstorm. Because God hates the Army. I'll be a little twitchy 'til I hear he's landed safely. (THEN it's still 9 days of 'field exercise' left, with 9 days' raucous thunderstorms forecast. But, at least he'll be on the ground.
The muddy, muddy ground.)
The pool man I've just hired says he's never rehabbed a pool with WILDLIFE in it before. Three separate prepper friends of mine have suggested I forgo the chemical cleaning, and just get tilapia fingerlings instead, to eat the algae and tadpoles from the blackwater frog factory which came with this house. Then (they say) I can use this fresh-fish food supply as my catalyst to finally get off the Grid. I'm considering it.
Also, in the last 48 hours, I've learned: 1. how to empty RV septic tanks; 2. how to repair kiteboard kite-holes; and 3. that fish love C4. Also: to catch a bat, throw a ballcap into the air. They'll target it with their sonar, then get tangled and come down with it. This solves the problem of indoor bats.
As for the problem of cottonmouths pool-lurking to eat the tadpoles, the pool man says he'll handle THAT. He DOES, after all (he observes) come equipped with a big net on a looong stick.
Still no solution on the pool-deck-pooping raccoons, however. Bigger stick?
The arborist who lives in a PODS unit in an acre of woods will now be moving his PODS onto my land July 3rd, not this coming weekend, as originally discussed. Great! This gives me an extra 7 days to clear out the poisonous snakes and full-bowel Procyonidae, before he takes up on my lawn to perform once-weekly landscape duties 'round here in trade for powering his fan and reading lamp from an extension cord run to the outside of my house.
Also, I'm up three pounds, from eating all the cheese and beer from the house I was ferret-sitting for. But the owner came back today after three weeks, and HE is up EIGHT pounds. Nice of him to allow me to (comparatively) not feel so bad.
Meantime, my cat is passing mylar. But that's a blog for a different time.
My life is weird, and I love it.