In which stuff gets built

Since today was looking like it may well be the final really nice day of the year, and since I'd had the foresight to take the day off, I hitched up my tool belt, threw the extension cords over my shoulder, set up shop in the back yard and got to work on my raised garden beds and compost bin. Which I've been planning for many months, but am only getting around to at the last possible moment.

I've done a bit of container gardening on the porch since moving here, and wanted to take advantage of this nice-sized, level yard to go larger scale. But the soil here is pretty much awful for anything that's not the Lovecraftian Wisteria of Unending Torment and, knowing my energy level and limited capacity for follow-through (not to mention gradually increasing creakiness and general decrepitude), doing the whole roto-tiller thing and planting right in the ground was not an appealing option.

So instead, the plan is to compost over the winter, and to build up lasagna-gardening style beds. By spring, if all goes well, I'll have a lovely layer of humus all ready to nurture little seedlings.

I once had a girlfriend who pronounced hummus as humus, which still confuses me.

And then there was the middle eastern grocery in the Strip, called Labad's, that had a sign in the window that read LABAD KING OF HOMOS. It's okay, we knew what he meant.

Anyway. The main idea was to do all of this on the cheap. Lucky for me, my father left behind buckets full of odd hardware bits, and my Uncle Rich seems to have never thrown out a piece of scrap lumber larger than a playing card. I snagged some decent shipping pallets from the beer distributor (thanks, Ron!), garbage-picked a few things, and got some odd-sized planks at Construction Junction. A few minutes with the tape measure and jigsaw to trim things up, and all the puzzle pieces were ready to fit together.

First up, I repurposed some IKEA IVAR shelves that I've been carting around for 15 years, from two apartments ago. I knew there'd be a use for them someday.

(Upper left is the canoe from under which I had to temporarily evict the friendly family of skunks who've been squatting there for several years.)

I just connected each corner with a couple of heavy-duty cable ties, and used some L-brackets to secure the top and bottom edges. Hey, it's mostly square.

The compost bin idea I found via a web video. Three 36" pallets, on end. Sturdy, well-ventilated, large but manageable capacity.

Again, no drilling or nailing, just those big-ass cable ties. Easy-peasy. Thank you, Verizon installer!

 

Some boards from another pallet and a few odd IVAR pieces make up the gate panel. I added a couple of super-cheap cabinet handles.

 

The sophistimacated latch system.

I am well aware that this is a futile gesture, and that it's not going to keep out any determined raccoon, clever possum, or escaped zoo monkey. If it just keeps out the lazy, unmotivated, and stupid ones, I'll be happy.

Big sheet of plywood someone put out at the curb, which I cut to fit. Mostly.

Another handle. I hope the vandals don't take it.

The hinges were the tricky part. (Aren't they always?) This is where a ratcheting screwdriver really saved my knuckles. Thank you, inventor of ratcheting things!

I definitely wanted a catch so the lid wouldn't go snapping off the first time I flung it open. That's baling twine for now; I'll replace it with picture wire or jack chain.

The finished project. I plan to secure it to the ground with some stakes to keep it from being knocked over by critters or sailing into Westmoreland County in the next windstorm. I don't think the neighbors have anything to complain about.

The big raised bed project. Boards joined with scrap lumber pieces. This was therapeutic. I got to channel my anger into imagining the faces of my enemies on the head of each nail as I pounded and pounded...

Corner brackets are our friends. Angle your pilot holes towards the edge of the board for a secure grip.

And there you have it! 8' x 4', about 22" high. Not too wobbly.

So now everything is ready for heaping helpings of leaves, grass, corks, biodegradable packing peanuts (thanks, MoMA!), coffee grounds, egg shells, fruit and vegetable peels and end-bits that the dog won't eat, pine cones, shredded documents, whatever.

After getting the compost bin started with all the goodies I've been saving in the freezer, I baptized it with a nearly-fossilized can of Old Milwaukee (thanks, Barb!) that a friend left behind at a party many moons ago and has been gathering dust in Barb's basement since. This is the only purpose for which Old Milwaukee is suitable.