Oct. 11, 2003 ~ Lotsa rocks
We've got rocks. Lots and lots of rocks. To give you an idea of how many, the place next door (literally, on the other side of our fence, that place next door) has been mined for iron ore. Not surprisingly, we have a great deal of iron ore, too. Little rocks, big rocks, huge rocks you couldn't lift without a crane. Luckily, there are not too many huge ones. There are, however, plenty of the other ones. The thing about rocks is that there are always more of them, no matter how many times you clear an area. When it rains or freezes or who knows what, the buried rocks come to the surface. When we plow the garden, there's always a fine harvest of rocks, every single year. You'd think we would run out, but we never do!
We also have a long, long driveway. Our property's previous owner was thrifty. When he decided to pave the driveway, it appears that he did it in the cheapest possible way. Which was fine for him, because he didn't stay here long afterwards. But over the years, that blacktop driveway has developed lots of potholes. Moles and gophers tunnel beneath it, and when rain fills the tunnels, sometimes the portion of driveway directly above the tunnel will collapse. For the record, this happens on our county's regular blacktop roads, too, just not to such an extent as it happens here. Tree roots go beneath the driveway, too, and when they eventually rot, that creates more tunnels, which tend to collapse. And there are lots of potholes for which we have no explanation, other than weather, and the fact that there was no subsurface preparation when the blacktop was laid. No gravel, sand, nothing. Just a few inches of black stuff laid down on top of the dirt.
ANYWAY...
It would be nice to have the driveway resurfaced, but it would be much too costly. The black patch stuff is also expensive. So yesterday I started picking up rocks, to put in the potholes. It's not an ideal solution, and is probably not really smart for someone with back problems, but there you go. The rocks are free. I will pick up a few of them a day, and Husband can lift my buckets of rocks into the bed of the truck, and then pour them into the holes. At my current rate, if I do this every day (I won't), it will probably take at least a year to fill the worst potholes. I know this because I transplanted flowers along that same driveway, doing a few at a time, and it took three years.
The persimmons are getting ripe, and our critters love persimmons. The animals watch me from afar, and if they see me pull a single persimmon from the tree, the cows come running, and the horses neigh and prance. Everybody gets to eat persimmons till my arms are weary. Today Henry, that big huge baby, ate two persimmons out of my hand. He is such a good boy. It's been awhile since Husband has mentioned getting a new bull, and I'm not bringing it up. We need to do it, no doubt; I just don't want to be the one to tell Henry that he's going to have to leave.
The pears are ripe, too, and are falling from the trees. Husband gathers them up in a bucket, and we give the horses several pears a day. Not that they are spoiled or anything.
Today Husband and College Boy are off looking at College Boy's future college. He is transferring there next semester, assuming that the loans come through, and he can find a room in a dorm, or somewhere. His room-mate plans recently fell through, so we are looking at other options. I really believe it will all work out somehow.
That's about it for today. A little of this, a little of that.
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