Friday, June 10, 2016

Weddings, Ties and Smiles

I don't get many opportunities to put on a necktie, and I believe the last time I wore this black sport jacket was at another wedding, that of Stephen and Laura.  It, too, was outdoors, as was the wedding celebration of Raphael and Woan Ching.

By contrast, the wedding of Madhu and Rie was indoors, although we did light a fire as part of the ceremony. It burned not in the fireplace, but in a temporary brick pit in the middle of the living room carpet. It's a bit of a story, and I digress.

What do these weddings have in common? Shari and I helped officiate. That's an honor and a delight for us.

Mind you, with Raph and Woan Ching, it was unofficial. I do not know if the authority conferred upon Shari and me by the International Assembly of Spiritual Healers and Earth Stewards Convocation of Ministers extends to Arizona. Fortunately, Raph and Woan Ching got married by a judge a year earlier. But this was the big celebration and they went all out. They needed someone with gravitas to play the role of officiant, and if there is something I regret about the past, it's not turning out for drama in high school.

Good thing I printed the script in large font because for the first half of the performance, I forgot to put on my reading glasses. The crowd made me nervous. I couldn't figure out why the letters were a bit fuzzy. But read the script I did, managing to look up occasionally, although I mangled some Chinese names and certainly mangled the Mandarin blessing at the end. "Bai neean how hö … jung gyie tong shīn" is how I wrote it down in my own mix of Spanish and Hungarian phonetics.

Fortunately, family and friends enjoyed the show. Most importantly, bride and groom were happy, which makes Shari and me ecstatic. Thanks to everyone who made it possible, and as we say in Mandarin (Woan Ching's translation),

Be in love and devote yourselves to each other.

Good advice for everyone, married, committed, single or not.


Thursday, June 9, 2016

Bed Number Four

Concrete to build up the low end. This is the area where,
the following weekend, I dug a post hole through a
cowboy concrete foundation.
I had forgotten how much work went into the three raised beds in our garden. I remembered over Memorial Day weekend. A lot.

We now have a fourth bed. It's just like the other three: parallel with them, but staggered a bit to the south.

It took a day and two runs in Smoke Ganesha, our Ford Explorer, to collect some seventy concrete blocks, thirty concrete caps, six sacks of concrete and four sacks of gravel. I was exhausted just loading them in the car, then unloading and piling them up in the garden next to the chosen location. A total of about a ton and a quarter, but Ganesha's tires held up.

It took all of the long weekend to build the bed. A day to lay the lines and dig the trench. (Can you spell, c-a-l-i-c-h-e?) That included sifting the dirt for small rocks which I treasure because they make great material for the paths in the gully.

Day Two was spent figuring out what was level, building up the lower end with concrete, then laying the blocks. Liquid Nails is good stuff. Then off to the local dump cum garden dirt place to stock up on twenty-five bags of, well, garden soil. 

Memorial Day we dug inside the bed to sift more dirt, then turn it over and mix it with the bagged soil. We needed more soil. Off to the mega hardware store for another fifteen bags. Mixed them in with the sifted dirt from the original trench dig. Of all the stuff we bought to make this fourth bed, the garden soil was the biggest expense by far.

Of course, writing about a day's work merits a little explanation. It means no more than six hours in the early morning. For one, it gets hot. For another, I'm no spring chicken. I get tired to the point where I can't think too straight. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out how I had the stamina to build the first three beds, except it was easier to have a truck deliver two yards of garden soil than buying forty bags worth.

Shari planted tomatoes, draping shade cloth over them to afford some protection from the relentless afternoon sun and hundred degree plus heat.

New, fourth bed canopy frame completed,
with two connections to the existing
three-bed canopy frame.
We had to build shade. That was this last weekend. Another trip to the mega hardware store to stock up on twenty foot long boards, treated 4x4 posts, angle brackets, curtain hooks, shade fabric, rope, and screws. I had enough energy left to paint all the boards and cut the smaller ones to size in anticipation of the great erection.

Next day I had to dig two post holes, one on each end of the bed. First was an easy sixteen inches through relatively soft dirt. I was about to plant the post in concrete when it occurred to me that I'd better dig the second post hole before I committed to anything.

Smart move. It turned out the south end was centered over cowboy concrete. There's an old, barely buried foundation that runs from the neighbor's driveway into our garden space. It has branches. I've dug into it in several places. It is old concrete. That means it has had decades to cure and get harder and harder. It means that when I hit it with my iron pike, it chipped off just enough to create a little cement dust and the iron bounced back — a rather jarring experience. It's thick enough that even a sledge hammer will not crack it.

Saturday was spent chipping away and pulverizing old concrete, alternating sledge hammer on chisel with the iron pike. The original design for a twelve inch hole was modified. I got eight inches out of that cowboy concrete and never reached its bottom. Enough for me. Bring on the posts, the level, the concrete mix, and the garden hose.

Another day was spent measuring levels and erecting the boards. Looked nice, I thought, until the neighbor complimented and made an observation. He's a retired builder who is engaged in adding a two-level guest house overlooking our property (another story) and with whom, along with his loyal worker Jesus (not the Christ; he's Mexican), I just recently helped build a 18,000 pound, almost sixty foot long, concrete block privacy wall on our property line (yet another forthcoming story). Howard said I needed to attach the new canopy frame to the existing one. Otherwise, one or the other new 4x4 post would snap in a good wind.

We get lots of good wind in Tucson. Years ago a gust snapped a mature palo verde tree trunk. A few months ago, a good gust snapped the fig tree we had planted in the very same place we constructed the fourth bed. Snapped not just the fig tree trunk, but the stakes holding it up.

Bed number four.
Testing Howard's advice, I pushed each of the two new posts. The whole structure wobbled. Then I pushed one of the six 4x4 posts holding up the canopy over the first three beds. Nothing moved. Howard had a good idea.

The next day I attached the fourth bed structure to the big one. Lot less wobble.

Then Shari went to work measuring, sewing, reinforcing and grommetting (is that a verb?) the landscape fabric. We put it up a couple of days ago.

Looks nice. I can hardly wait for the tomatoes. Thank God we are running out of space inside the Great Fence of San Simeon.

Friday, June 3, 2016

Hundred Degrees

Yesterday was the first hundred degree day in Tucson this year. The day the thermometer hits 100°F is an occasion for articles in local newspapers and news broadcasts. Local TV stations have competitions to see who can guess which day will be the first. It's a summer time rite of passage, like Memorial Day, barbecues, and (in other parts of the country) shorts and flip-flops.

Well, today the thermometer in our cement pond hit 100°F, so we ain't taking a back seat to nobody.

Thursday, June 2, 2016

Fan-tastic

There are many things we'd like to fix or change about our home. Among them was the funky track lighting in the TV room. It wasn't just that the floodlights looked tacky. We also had been dreaming of installing a ceiling fan.

I don't have a "before" photo. You know how that works. It was so ugly, why take a picture of it?

We spend our mornings and evenings in our recliners, the most comfortable seats in the house, sipping coffee, watching movies, reading email on our tablets.

It gets hot in Tucson and we are entering summer. We try not to burn too much money running the air conditioning. Eighty degrees can be quite bearable with a small breeze. Previous summers, we plugged in a floor fan and had fun tripping over the wire or pointing the fan towards or away, depending upon who felt more heat.

Unsatisfied with what the mega-hardware stores had to offer, we bought a beauty at a local lighting fixture store. That was the easy part. Installing it was quite the project.

I've already installed or replaced three ceiling fans in this house, but this fourth proved the most challenging — and rewarding. I will summarize or this post will run for pages: 
  • cut out (literally, using blade and chisel) the track of the track lighting which had been caulked into the ceiling drywall; 
  • lay plastic sheets everywhere to catch the dust;
  • cut out the damaged drywall and sweep;
  • marvel and explore wire connections taped and wire-nutted together (definitely not Code);
  • buy and attach electrical box to ceiling joist and shove the loose wire connections inside;
  • pray the wire connections hold after having shoved, poked and forced inside the box;
  • install fan support bracket (thanks, Ace Hardware); 
  • cut new drywall to shape and affix without mucking it up too badly; 
  • rely upon Shari's talent and two days of her work to match stucco texture, then match paint (unsuccessfully), then paint the entire ceiling; 
  • lay plastic and sweep again and again;
  • pray the new ceiling fan with LED light will attach to the bracket;
  • interpret instructions and drawings written by someone who obviously knew what he was doing so he didn't feel the need to really explain;
  • attach ceiling fan and wonder whether I should have used the parts still in the box;
  • pray the circuit breaker doesn't trip as I turn on. Viola!
The fan rotates quietly. Its LED light is a bit bright, but it's the fan we wanted, not a ceiling light. The breeze is refreshing and cool. Folks, we are in love with our new fan.