A Funny Tail

We have a window in our bathroom, over the bathtub and opposite the shower head.  It's quite possibly our bathroom's only redeeming feature (actually, it's more than quite possible - it is), and it makes for a pleasant shower on these summer mornings because there's usually some cool  left over nighttime air making its way in.

It's also a regular stop for a certain black and grey stripey feline when he does his rounds about the house.  He has a particular technique whereby he'll run through the bathroom door at full tilt then make a leap from the floor to the windowsill without landing a paw on the edge of the tub.  He seems to think he's pretty slick when he does this.

He applied his particular technique this morning, but what he didn't stop to work out was that yours truly was already in the shower.  No sooner did his feet hit the windowsill than he realised that a) he was getting wet - which he only likes to do under highly contolled circumstances that involve Daniel and a tub full of water, and b) he was not alone.

Panic ensued, and a flurry of fur and whiskers propelled itself, somewhat innaccurately as it happens, back from whence it came.  I looked around the shower curtain to see one rather upset cat do a header into the edge of the toilet.  A quick shake of the head and a scrabble of paws, and he was gone without a trace...

Poor boy!  He didn't hurt himself, but he did look rather embarrassed when I checked on him.  Whoever said that cats are elegant creatures hasn't met our Dobie!

Compost Accessories

When one has acquired a fabulously fabulous compost bin (see previous post), it only seems proper that, as a now fashionable compostor, one ought to accessorise.  One has the requisite accessories, of course; a pitchfork, a hose for wetting down the compost, buckets for carrying the compost, and a strong back (mostly Daniel's) for turning the compost.  But there was something missing, something that would make me an uber fashionista in the oh-so-glamourous world of compost making.

Enter the trommel.  Yes, the trommel.  One really is not at one's composting best without one....

This, my friends, is a trommel:

I don't know about you, but my compost is generally full of twigs, shrubbery and plants that haven't quite rotted down, and those rotten stinking little labels they stick on all the fruit and veg because apparently identifying a snow pea can be a chore (it's true - I can't tell you how many times the checkout person has asked me what snow peas are.  Ginger's another favourite).

What the trommel allows me to do is sift my compost - out go the twigs and sticks - and what is left is luvverly, luvverly black gold.

My "groundskeeper" (that's him on the left making some adjustments, and that's his term, not mine) developed our trommel using scrap bits of wood, a few old bicycle wheels with the spokes removed, some little wheels, and some stuff they call hardware cloth here, but which I can't think of another name for at the moment.

Here are some details:

What you do is put the trommel over a wheelbarrow, chuck the compost in at one end, and start spinning.  It drops the luvverly compost into the wheelbarrow and kicks (most of) the twigs, shrubbery and plants (but not those stinking little labels, unfortunately) out the other end so you can pull out the twigs and return the not-quite-rotted stuff to the compost bin for another go round.  Brilliant!

That stuff on the bottom right?  That's the sifted stuff that will make my plants happy, and stop me from cursing the twigs, shrubbery and other misshapen lumps that I find in what I used to think was my finished compost. Quite a difference from the raw stuff on the left, wouldn't you say?

Wonderful.  Abso-bloody-lutely wonderful.

You know Dahlings, I think it's safe to say that thanks to my groundskeeper I am now an uber fashionista in the oh-so-glamourous world of compost making. Ta-ta for now!

Look What the Fence Pixies Brought!

At last we have a back fence.  Yaaaaaaaaay!  We've waited a long time for this one, that's for sure.  No more view of the alley way, no more dust kicking up all over my vegies, no more dogs deciding our backyard makes the perfect toilet. And no more people getting bogged in our backyard during the winter because they think it's the perfect spot to turn around in.

The pixies brought us two gates - one for our recently acquired trailer, and one for putting the rubbish out on Sundays... or wandering through if we ever feel the need to walk down the alley.  I have a sneaking suspicion there's a raccoon or two using the pedestrian gate as well.

Just to give you an idea of how much the backyard has changed, this is what we used to have.  What you can't see are the old star pickets, chicken wire and weeds that made up the rest of the fence to the right of the photo.  Not to mention the old concrete pad, car parts, and who knows what else that used to be there.

Now we have this:

It's completely changed the feel of it.  We've also been working at leveling it out (there used to be a cubby house to the left of the apricot tree, an old brick barbecue, and enough blackberry brambles to make Brer Rabbit very, very happy).

Daniel did a lot of the levelling (I've done the seeding and maintenance - there's new lawn under the tree now), but he did take a break now and then...

Introducing Dan Jones, Rock God.

Boiling Springs

One thing we have not managed to do as much of as we'd like since we got to Idaho is go camping.  We finally managed to squeeze in an overnighter a few weekends ago, though, (actually, it was a while ago now - it's taken forever to get to this) and now we're just mad at all the time we haven't spent camping!

We went to a place called Boiling Springs Campground, about two and half hours' drive northeastish of Boise, much of it on gravel roads.

It was the first really nice weekend we'd had, and you couldn't stuff another person in the campgrounds.  In fact, I think we were quite lucky to find a spot.

Even though there were lots of people, it wasn't hard to get away from them.  They were all very well behaved, too - no late night partiers.  This is a good thing, because I'm pretty sure my times of late night partying have been consigned to the memoir I haven't written.

It was a very pretty campground, too, perched right along the banks of a river, which made it easy for the kids who were there to get themselves wet and for the bigger kids (ones about the shape and size of Daniel) to go fishing.  Apparently the water was still fabulously cold.

Because we hadn't been to this area before, we went on an exploratory drive to see what we could see...

We saw mountain meadows:

A detour sign (seriously - they were rebuilding a bridge in the middle of the bush):

And on our way back to camp, we saw this amazing waterfall:

We had some company at our camp in the form of about ten very curious and not at all concerned about our prescence ground squirrels.  I'm not sure what species they were, but I can tell you they are related to chipmunks - which we also saw a few of. Cute little buggers, aren't they?  They're also pretty noisy.

This next photo is out of focus, but I have to post it anyway.  These two juvenile ground squirrels were just so entertaining, and more than happy to pose for a photo.  I was cursing the fact that I'm still learning about the camera when I downloaded this at home.

Daniel took his mountain bike and fishing gear and made good use of both of them, while yours truly read and went for gentle walks.

I also took some photos, such as this one.  I'm intrigued by birds in flight, and I'm discovering that it's possible to catch a pretty decent photo if I'm paying attention, and if the camera's digital, because then it doesn't matter how many tries it takes me to get a photo!  This is, I think, some form of wren and I like the way there's a whole lot of blue sky around the tiny little bird.

After dinner on Satuday night, we went for stroll in the long, long twilight they have in the summer here in search of the boiling spring after which the camp ground is named.  Unfortunately we couldn't get right up to it; there's a cabin there which people can rent, and the signs ask you to respect their privacy.  We did, however, get to see where the (literally) boiling spring met the river.

Pretty nifty, huh?  It was also about 9:30pm when Daniel took this.

On Sunday, Daniel proved his camp cooking mettle by making us a delicious breakfast (scrambled eggs and ham for me). 

We took a very leisurely drive home along all sorts of narrow, twisty back roads - none of which were sealed - and I have to report that the Toyota got its first scrapes....  Had to happen eventually, I guess.  We also met this doe on the way home.  She's a mule deer, which is the most common species around here, and wasn't at all surprised by us.  We got to watch her for quite a few minutes before she finally decided she'd had enough (I imagine we were pretty smelly) and took off.

All in all, it was a good weekend.  And I'm delighted to report that I can apparently still sleep on the ground (on a mat) without having to pay too dearly for it - a little (okay, a bit more than a little) first-thing-in-the-morning achiness notwithstanding.