RadishRose
SF VIP
- Location
- Connecticut, USA
Our version of retirement: Living a childhood dream
- Thread starter Gary O'
- Start date
RadishRose
SF VIP
- Location
- Connecticut, USA
Nahhh... I'll be ok. Thanks anyway@ RadishRose???
Hmmm,, Do we need to get you help about those thoughts?
There seems to be an echo
.......bouncing from my lady's kitchen into this forum
Sliverfox
Well-known Member
Will you enclose them to match the doors or move then out of sight?
Was going to suggest placing them in the little alley way,, but noticed house window there.
Don't want stink in the house.
Was going to suggest placing them in the little alley way,, but noticed house window there.
Don't want stink in the house.
Good question
Had them in the back, but winter makes hauling 'em to the front a bit of a chore.
However, 'chores' are pretty much nonexistent here in town.....
Enclosing 'em sounds pretty good
Nice suggestion, Sli
There's no stink
It's required to have all trash in the can, bagged
And I'm good with that
I use the quality, no tear, quilted bags
Yeah, there was a relay station halfway to town.
I'd haul three 30gal cans about once every two months
$13
Recycle becomes a serious endeavor
It gets tricky in winter
Funny how much burns up in a 55 gal drum with a little diesel and a gas kicker.
Not the most ecological procedure, but I thought it necessary
Drank a lot of juice
of which generates a lot of empty plastic juice jugs
Turns out, they smash up pretty flat in the vice
Heh, folks talk about 'living off the land' with no, or shallow thoughts of how to handle basic stuff
Very few try it
Even fewer stick it out
Speaking of garbage
There's always poop
Two meals a day creates eventual urges
When we made our extended weekend trips to build the cabin, we'd just stroll out a ways, dig a hole
Once we moved there, that all changed
Didn't care to dig a pit
The water table was quite high
Reminds me of something I wrote early on in this thread;
Tedious things
or
What we do with you know what;
This is what I learned from a guy down the path that had been composting his family of five's 'stuff' for six years.
Build a bin
Approx four feet cubed
Posts in the corners and 3-4 inch wide by half inch thick boards
2-3 inch spacing
Initially leave one side open with one or two boards at the bottom.
Start with a generous layer of pine needles or the like.
A layer of straw on top of that does not hurt.
Empty your pail of you know what, including TP, and well...pee.
(no wipes, won't break down)
Pine needles and straw on top of that, about 2-3 inches.
Add boards as needed.
If you experience an odor, add more straw and needles.
(if you experience an odor after saaay a foot of pine needles and straw, change your dining habits or see a doctor)
Once the bin is full, proceed to the next bin and start the process anew.
Let the first bin 'rest' for 12 months.
Happy birthday, you now have compost.
Somebody told me to never mix in the urine, or I’ll learn the hard way
About the urine;
This 'compost' will not go into our garden.
Bushes, shrubs, maybe trees, if anything.
My intent is to just break down the 'stuff'.
So, the explanation of 'learning the hard way' prolly doesn't apply in our case.
I'm just getting somewhat weary of spending a goodly portion of whatever is left of my precious time here on irth boiling poopoo.
At first it was fascinating.
The lighting ceremony.
Stirring the caldron.
Tossing on more...and more.....and more fuel.
Not sure when tedium recognition took place, but, by end of winter the allure had transmuted to some kinda sordid monotony.
This led me to the quick and easy aspect of composting.
But
to extract urine from the other stuff, or to somehow divert the stream 'tween urges?
Not bloody likely.
Then again, if we were to be so bold as to use our loo-made urineized compost in our veggie garden after a year of resting, well, those fine neighbors down the path have been doing it for years now and they seem normal.....good color, no hair loss, good muscle tone....minimal itching....
But, like most aspects of living off grid, the very real things, procedures of day to day life, get rather nitty gritty.
None of it can be diverted or in some cases postponed.
This ain't Disney out here.
Even the simple task of bathing can be an adventure, especially in winter.
Back on topic;
I've never been a member of the white toilet bowl society, nor a proponent of the decorative hand towel display.
The one so ornate one is given to wiping their hands on their pants or flapping them dry to avert messing up the obvious feng shui of accoutremental aura.
Thing is, most of us, when on city water, never give where things go a second thought.
The only concern is when the water keeps running after flushing, causing your water bill to compete with your electric.
It's either accepting the fact that you must train all family members how to successfully jiggle the handle, busying yourself by looking at your facial flaws in the mirror until the water does in fact quit running, or just standing there, staring at the swirling eddy in the bowl, daring it to keep running,
or,
eventually lifting the tank lid, reaching into that mystical area and fixing the darn thing, feeling a bit heroic, showing everyone that you, you are the master of the house, you got this.
But,
When the outhouse becomes the facility, whatever you ingested just hours ago eventually becomes an ever present, heaping menace.
And the question looms, what on earth do we do with this, this festering mound of blind eels?
Having mastered cleansing these aging vessels of ours, and maintaining a controlled command of the laundry, especially thru the winter months, we are on task to turn these flourishing keester cakes into a form of harmless humus, of which we can merrily cast forth, back to muther irth...where it belongs.
Seems our society has taken the unglamorous facets of living and, for the most part, hidden them.
I mean how many of us (sans septic tanks) know where sewage goes?
Oh sure, we see the treatment plants, and have read about how everything gets converted to biodegradable glop,
but what about the really horrible stuff?
I do believe it's good...'xcuse me, necessary to git yer hands in it, see it, learn how to give it back to muther irth in a relative form of whence it came.
Same with garbage, another topic, but the same thing.
Some societies have no garbage, yet we (most of us) feel just fine about putting anything undesirable in a can because once a week a large noisy truck makes it all disappear.
I have too simple (lazy) of a mind to get into all this, but even us simple guys can take heed and comply with the nature...natural process of things.
Fresh notes on this;
Winter 2017
It snows here, lots
The compost bin is many paces from the cabin
I chose to devote my snow trekking energy to drawing water....many paces from the cabin.
So,
Back to burning
What I came to learn last winter was it takes considerable time to tend the barrel.
As much fun as churning the cauldron seems, it’s not one of my favorite pastimes.
This, our second year, I stayed on top of everything.
Water
Wood
Propane
Gas
Diesel
Food
Small building supplies, nails, screws, brackets
All stocked
All the time
No surprises
Winter has its own surprises, so it’s best to keep the odds of getting in a bind to a minimum.
Give yerself a running chance.
I incorporated poopail duty into my aggressive maintenance schedule.
Turns out, less burns quicker.
Every other day is around a quarter pail of moist paper, pine needles at the bottom, and eight meals worth of mud bunnies.
We gathered four pails of pine needles back in the fall.
Best ever at layering the bucket.
Much much better than sawdust.
Worried four pails wouldn’t be enough.
We have two pails left, and it’s, what, March?
Anyway, I’ll twist the old ashes with a farmer’s fork,
pour a cup of diesel/gas/used oil mix
fetch the bucket
dump it in the barrel
(temps at 0°F and below require the tapping of a hammer near the bottom of a tipped bucket)
twist that a bit with the fork
or, at low temps, poke heck outa it with the farmer’s fork
pour a generous amount of the volatile cocktail (2-3 cups…a tin can’s worth)
twist a sheet of newspaper, soak the end
light it
flick it into the barrel
run light heck, screaming FIRE! FIRE!
Jus’ kidding
Put the screen on
And go about yer other business for 20 minutes
Note;
If, for some reason, the barrel does not go ‘whoooosh!’
Do NOT! hang yer face over it to determine the matter
(...another thing I came to learn)
Jus’ do the pour, paper routine again
Best to treat the barrel like poking a cornered puma during this procedure.
Synopsis;
It takes around an hour to reduce raw alley apples into powder of grey poupon
when tending ever 20 minutes
Bon marché
There's always poop
Two meals a day creates eventual urges
When we made our extended weekend trips to build the cabin, we'd just stroll out a ways, dig a hole
Once we moved there, that all changed
Didn't care to dig a pit
The water table was quite high
Reminds me of something I wrote early on in this thread;
Tedious things
or
What we do with you know what;
This is what I learned from a guy down the path that had been composting his family of five's 'stuff' for six years.
Build a bin
Approx four feet cubed
Posts in the corners and 3-4 inch wide by half inch thick boards
2-3 inch spacing
Initially leave one side open with one or two boards at the bottom.
Start with a generous layer of pine needles or the like.
A layer of straw on top of that does not hurt.
Empty your pail of you know what, including TP, and well...pee.
(no wipes, won't break down)
Pine needles and straw on top of that, about 2-3 inches.
Add boards as needed.
If you experience an odor, add more straw and needles.
(if you experience an odor after saaay a foot of pine needles and straw, change your dining habits or see a doctor)
Once the bin is full, proceed to the next bin and start the process anew.
Let the first bin 'rest' for 12 months.
Happy birthday, you now have compost.
Somebody told me to never mix in the urine, or I’ll learn the hard way
About the urine;
This 'compost' will not go into our garden.
Bushes, shrubs, maybe trees, if anything.
My intent is to just break down the 'stuff'.
So, the explanation of 'learning the hard way' prolly doesn't apply in our case.
I'm just getting somewhat weary of spending a goodly portion of whatever is left of my precious time here on irth boiling poopoo.
At first it was fascinating.
The lighting ceremony.
Stirring the caldron.
Tossing on more...and more.....and more fuel.
Not sure when tedium recognition took place, but, by end of winter the allure had transmuted to some kinda sordid monotony.
This led me to the quick and easy aspect of composting.
But
to extract urine from the other stuff, or to somehow divert the stream 'tween urges?
Not bloody likely.
Then again, if we were to be so bold as to use our loo-made urineized compost in our veggie garden after a year of resting, well, those fine neighbors down the path have been doing it for years now and they seem normal.....good color, no hair loss, good muscle tone....minimal itching....
But, like most aspects of living off grid, the very real things, procedures of day to day life, get rather nitty gritty.
None of it can be diverted or in some cases postponed.
This ain't Disney out here.
Even the simple task of bathing can be an adventure, especially in winter.
Back on topic;
I've never been a member of the white toilet bowl society, nor a proponent of the decorative hand towel display.
The one so ornate one is given to wiping their hands on their pants or flapping them dry to avert messing up the obvious feng shui of accoutremental aura.
Thing is, most of us, when on city water, never give where things go a second thought.
The only concern is when the water keeps running after flushing, causing your water bill to compete with your electric.
It's either accepting the fact that you must train all family members how to successfully jiggle the handle, busying yourself by looking at your facial flaws in the mirror until the water does in fact quit running, or just standing there, staring at the swirling eddy in the bowl, daring it to keep running,
or,
eventually lifting the tank lid, reaching into that mystical area and fixing the darn thing, feeling a bit heroic, showing everyone that you, you are the master of the house, you got this.
But,
When the outhouse becomes the facility, whatever you ingested just hours ago eventually becomes an ever present, heaping menace.
And the question looms, what on earth do we do with this, this festering mound of blind eels?
Having mastered cleansing these aging vessels of ours, and maintaining a controlled command of the laundry, especially thru the winter months, we are on task to turn these flourishing keester cakes into a form of harmless humus, of which we can merrily cast forth, back to muther irth...where it belongs.
Seems our society has taken the unglamorous facets of living and, for the most part, hidden them.
I mean how many of us (sans septic tanks) know where sewage goes?
Oh sure, we see the treatment plants, and have read about how everything gets converted to biodegradable glop,
but what about the really horrible stuff?
I do believe it's good...'xcuse me, necessary to git yer hands in it, see it, learn how to give it back to muther irth in a relative form of whence it came.
Same with garbage, another topic, but the same thing.
Some societies have no garbage, yet we (most of us) feel just fine about putting anything undesirable in a can because once a week a large noisy truck makes it all disappear.
I have too simple (lazy) of a mind to get into all this, but even us simple guys can take heed and comply with the nature...natural process of things.
Fresh notes on this;
Winter 2017
It snows here, lots
The compost bin is many paces from the cabin
I chose to devote my snow trekking energy to drawing water....many paces from the cabin.
So,
Back to burning
What I came to learn last winter was it takes considerable time to tend the barrel.
As much fun as churning the cauldron seems, it’s not one of my favorite pastimes.
This, our second year, I stayed on top of everything.
Water
Wood
Propane
Gas
Diesel
Food
Small building supplies, nails, screws, brackets
All stocked
All the time
No surprises
Winter has its own surprises, so it’s best to keep the odds of getting in a bind to a minimum.
Give yerself a running chance.
I incorporated poopail duty into my aggressive maintenance schedule.
Turns out, less burns quicker.
Every other day is around a quarter pail of moist paper, pine needles at the bottom, and eight meals worth of mud bunnies.
We gathered four pails of pine needles back in the fall.
Best ever at layering the bucket.
Much much better than sawdust.
Worried four pails wouldn’t be enough.
We have two pails left, and it’s, what, March?
Anyway, I’ll twist the old ashes with a farmer’s fork,
pour a cup of diesel/gas/used oil mix
fetch the bucket
dump it in the barrel
(temps at 0°F and below require the tapping of a hammer near the bottom of a tipped bucket)
twist that a bit with the fork
or, at low temps, poke heck outa it with the farmer’s fork
pour a generous amount of the volatile cocktail (2-3 cups…a tin can’s worth)
twist a sheet of newspaper, soak the end
light it
flick it into the barrel
run light heck, screaming FIRE! FIRE!
Jus’ kidding
Put the screen on
And go about yer other business for 20 minutes
Note;
If, for some reason, the barrel does not go ‘whoooosh!’
Do NOT! hang yer face over it to determine the matter
(...another thing I came to learn)
Jus’ do the pour, paper routine again
Best to treat the barrel like poking a cornered puma during this procedure.
Synopsis;
It takes around an hour to reduce raw alley apples into powder of grey poupon
when tending ever 20 minutes
Bon marché
Now that I'm 'tween major project, my lady showed me a chalk drawing her friend down the path from the cabin drew
Wants me to frame it
...with the live edge on the outside
Sooooo, I've gotta use a reverse procedure to match the corners
There will be blood
Wants me to frame it
...with the live edge on the outside
Sooooo, I've gotta use a reverse procedure to match the corners
There will be blood
RadishRose
SF VIP
- Location
- Connecticut, USA
Nice scene! I recognize your wife.
Yeah, the lady did a good job
She's the one we dug out one winter
About four feet of snow with six to eight foot drifts
We were driving on 2-3 feet of ice/snow pack
Last edited:
Got a bit of good news
Recv'd a card in the mail from the city planning dept
Said we could bid on the vacant lot adjoining us
Said they can only sell it for market value
But the suggested price was ridiculously low
Naturally we submitted our bid
The lady on the other side of the lot, of which adjoins the same lot, bid a couple hundred bucks higher than ours
We bumped it $500
She backed out
Thing is, it's gonna be a 'restricted deed', meaning we can't plop a house on it and sell it...basically can't improve the lot, or turn around and sell it for much more.....or even sell it (we'll see all the particulars when we meet.
We don't care
It's more elbow room
I may put a shop on it, or a greenhouse of which we can
or just more garden.....much more
We'll be ready with a cashier's check in hand in a few weeks (after all the planners give their OKs)
Recv'd a card in the mail from the city planning dept
Said we could bid on the vacant lot adjoining us
Said they can only sell it for market value
But the suggested price was ridiculously low
Naturally we submitted our bid
The lady on the other side of the lot, of which adjoins the same lot, bid a couple hundred bucks higher than ours
We bumped it $500
She backed out
Thing is, it's gonna be a 'restricted deed', meaning we can't plop a house on it and sell it...basically can't improve the lot, or turn around and sell it for much more.....or even sell it (we'll see all the particulars when we meet.
We don't care
It's more elbow room
I may put a shop on it, or a greenhouse of which we can
or just more garden.....much more
We'll be ready with a cashier's check in hand in a few weeks (after all the planners give their OKs)
Sliverfox
Well-known Member
My niece is across the street which is as close as we want anybody.
Our lot is 9 acres.
She & her husband are gone all day working.
I don't even have her phone number!
Our lot is 9 acres.
She & her husband are gone all day working.
I don't even have her phone number!
RadishRose
SF VIP
- Location
- Connecticut, USA
Gee those restrictions seem pretty.....restrictive. You can't improve the property? Would a greenhouse be considered an improvement? I'll bet they'll collect taxes on it.
Well, I know you know what you're doing; I just don't know about such things. Congratulations!
They said I could put a shop or a greenhouse on the lot.....or something like that.
Nothing to live in.
We'll see, after all their depts sign off.
We really don't care
It just gives us a bit more separation between neighbors.
I'm thinking a small orchard...or flower garden
Got the frame done
I so wanted to capture the work in stages, but got so enmeshed in changing procedures midstream I neglected recording anything.
This chalk drawing requires glass
Glass is not my friend
Never been
Lotsa breakups
Sooooooo, I snuck up on this
Corners on live edge pieces are always tricky
But....introducing a glass pane (pain) just makes it that much more funner
The backing panel was approx 1/16th thicker than the pane
So, I shaved off a bit to frame the glass on the back with 2" strips of panel, to keep the glass pane tight (not too thight, but to not be loose and rattle around).
Then put the back panel over all that
Applying staples and screws along the edge
Tricky part was laying the drawing on the glass (topside down) in position to not hide the tip of the mountain and my lady's chin
(the drawing didn't give me much wiggle room)
I taped it
turned to see if it was right
everthing fell out
I coulda put it on some sorta backing/matting (white or colored sheet), but slogged forward, trusting my ability, not wanting to get all that involved, since I'd probably spill my coffee on it by the time I was almost done anyway
But
if came out
Happy with the matched corners too (there was blood)
My lady is happy
I'm happy
(more relieved than happy)
I so wanted to capture the work in stages, but got so enmeshed in changing procedures midstream I neglected recording anything.
This chalk drawing requires glass
Glass is not my friend
Never been
Lotsa breakups
Sooooooo, I snuck up on this
Corners on live edge pieces are always tricky
But....introducing a glass pane (pain) just makes it that much more funner
The backing panel was approx 1/16th thicker than the pane
So, I shaved off a bit to frame the glass on the back with 2" strips of panel, to keep the glass pane tight (not too thight, but to not be loose and rattle around).
Then put the back panel over all that
Applying staples and screws along the edge
Tricky part was laying the drawing on the glass (topside down) in position to not hide the tip of the mountain and my lady's chin
(the drawing didn't give me much wiggle room)
I taped it
turned to see if it was right
everthing fell out
I coulda put it on some sorta backing/matting (white or colored sheet), but slogged forward, trusting my ability, not wanting to get all that involved, since I'd probably spill my coffee on it by the time I was almost done anyway
But
if came out
Happy with the matched corners too (there was blood)
My lady is happy
I'm happy
(more relieved than happy)
Last edited:
I failed to mention the standing on three to four feet of snow/ice part
Tending involves bending in winter
Last edited:
Sliverfox
Well-known Member
Hope the wild fires aren't licking at your door step.
So far, so good
Those trees up there are parched
Can't run a chainsaw....nor would I
Yeah, it's a hope
I feel a tad triumphant at the moment.
The shower drain has been slow....and getting slower
Hit it with the plunger, but no noticeable results
Finally unscrewed the stopper
Heh, there was a gloppy hairball gracing the pipe
A rather tight one
Not sure why any water got by
The drain design did its job of keeping it from traveling any further
Used the hemostats to ever so carefully drag it all out
Ended up with a glob the size of yer average roadkill
Proudly showed my lady
It wasn't the best move
I'll be in the shop
The shower drain has been slow....and getting slower
Hit it with the plunger, but no noticeable results
Finally unscrewed the stopper
Heh, there was a gloppy hairball gracing the pipe
A rather tight one
Not sure why any water got by
The drain design did its job of keeping it from traveling any further
Used the hemostats to ever so carefully drag it all out
Ended up with a glob the size of yer average roadkill
Proudly showed my lady
It wasn't the best move
I'll be in the shop
