Transplanting Manzanita

I love getting helpful planting tips from gardeners who have won the battle that each of us Yarnellians face up here on this rocky, windswept mountain. One prized piece of information came to me as an aside the day a stranger helped me cope with a rattlesnake- bitten cat.

George, the stranger, operated an antique shop next door to our veterinarian. His home and spacious garden were located to the back of his business. While I waited for my kitty, George gave a tour of his beautiful shady garden to help soothe my stressful day. (News of rattlesnake bite travels fast in these here parts).

He attributed all his gardening success to the dense shade provided by native trees--transplanted from Kirkland Creek ONLY in the month of January.

We've been heeding that advise for transplanting manzanita, an ornamental evergreen native to Yarnell, with good results. Several years ago, two manzanita plants came up in our driveway; David transplanted them in January. They are now shoulder high.

Manzanita, according to Wikipedia, grows in the chaparral biome of North America but doesn't even list AZ in the zone. Indeed it is much prized, but not protected, and grows beautifully here in AZ. The berries and flowers are edible, its thin mahogany bark can be dried and used for a tea and Native Americans used its leaves to clean their teeth. Some species are among the rarest plants in the world; one endangered species was recently cloned in CAL.

Today it was my turn. Again, two manzanita plants sprang up in our driveway. This was their second winter, time to transplant before they became sizable enough to risk being run over. Thankfully no cloning is necessary for Badboulder's manzanita.

Manzanita is far and away my favorite chaparral shrub. I will go to great lengths to avoid getting into their space.

Their beauty as ornamentals is such that I once convinced David to set a dead one in concrete. My sis and I strung it with fairy lights as we laughed and sipped a margarita. The lights now need replacing--a delicate chore as it is old enough to be a bit crumbly. I need my sis and a margarita.

I was working away from home the day an APS representative informed David that the chaparral, on our land but under their electrical line, must be cut. David asked them to please spare the manzanita, pointing out that it never attains great height, doesn't have a long life span and was the most desirable plant we owned. They left the beautiful manzanita which has benefited from the removal of dense brush.

When we furnished our condo, I wanted to display a piece of manzanita, a memento from Badboulder. It was a casualty from the burial of our propane tank. Amazingly, some leaves are still intact, adding interest to our RED wall.

Usually in January, the sweet fragrance of the manzanita's tiny pink blossoms perfumes Badboulder's air. We've had shiveringly cold nights for over a month this year which probably accounts for a delay. It'll be worth the wait!

FROM THE KNOTHOLE: Back when I used to work for America West Airlines, one of my best friends was Jim, but I called him Manzanita Man. You see, to make extra money, he had a permit from the U.S. Forest Service to go into national forests and cut manzanitas. He used plaster to set the cuttings, usually around 6 feet tall, in a 5-gallon bucket. He was connected with several interior decorators in the Scottsdale area who placed manzanitas in the homes of their wealthy clients.

a parting shot from bbman: where were you when kennedy was shot? one of our favorite perennial questions. don't think i have ever met anyone who does not connect with that day. i was in mexico city attending the university of the americas. i was living in a room over the garage of a rather wealthy mexican family. when i arrived home that evening, the mother of the household and her daughter, rosita, came to meet me and, through sobs and tears, offered condolences for the loss of president kennedy.

Exploding Solar Water Heater

Our first winter in Yarnell, 1994-95, was actually quite rare in that we received so much rain that the town wash trickled until early June. As newbies we just thought , "How delightful, we have this little brook running through our property." I'm not sure if we saw rain again for two years as we experienced some searing drought with no monsoon activity. Our limited weather experience, no summer rains, figured into my list of persuasive reasons why we should become pioneers and move onto our own property with only a utility room to house us. I cited no more rent which is huge for "DIYers paying-as-we-go home builders". I reminded David that he spent most of his time in hotels while working as a flight attendant for America West Airlines, now US Air, and said I was willing to change my lifestyle.

The utility room contained a bathroom, washer and dryer, utility cabinets, and a sleeping loft reached by a vertical ladder positioned straight up the wall, think submarine here. We planned an outdoor kitchen. Some wonderful friends were spending three months in cool bliss and offered the use of kitchen and bathing facilities. Actually, they were so generous they urged us to move into their guest quarters, however we saw that as far too much of an imposition. We're still friends.

We were in the process of proving intent to reside with the electric company, so that washer and dryer came in handy for shelving but it was a laundry tub, cold water, a washboard and clothes line from June 15 to mid October that kept us presentably dressed.

Pioneer that I was, cold water showers just weren't for me, despite the hot days. David, always to the rescue, professed to know about solar water heaters (I think he had some experience using one during his Army days).

Our solar water heater was simply an intact, chemical-free barrel painted with a special black paint, filled with a garden hose, and connected to a water line leading into our utility. The water temperature rivaled AZ's famous chilies and jalapenos; there was plenty for two people.

Evening's bath after an entire day spent working outdoors in an AZ summer was truly prized. Bath time with warm water was going to be such a pleasure. The anticipated solar heater was in place. David took first shower and was quick about it to ensure I had plenty of warm water. Ah, my turn! I used the water saving technique of a brief rinse, turn off the water, lather entire body and apply a generous amount of shampoo, then the luxury of rinsing. Just as I turned the water on for that rinse, we heard a resounding boom. The solar water heater had blown its top and I rinsed in cold water.

David is not one to be bested by a barrel; he added a pressure device to our next solar water heater. We successfully used it until APS installed our electricity in October. I now have three half barrels to use as planters; and they also remind us of the progress we've made in building Badboulder.

FROM THE KNOTHOLE: Hey, it's me, up here, keeping an eye on things. It was actually quite a boom, and rather dangerous. I knew that a large barrel would not take 50 pounds of water pressure, and I had not intended for Badboulderlady to turn off the water at the shower. She was supposed to yell at me to turn water off and on as it entered the barrel. I thought she understood because she had done that for me. The shower was in the building and the barrel was outside in the sun.

a parting shot from bbman: Expensive cars are very poor investments.

Chronicles of Concrete, Chapter Two

Badboulder's main house site is not accessible for large equipment, thus our foundation, ten feet deep in some spaces, needed to be poured in small lots of concrete that we made ourselves. I include myself only because I was of some small assistance in the early days.

Much of the concrete was produced during summer's heat and monsoon season, anytime David had a few days off from his job with America West Airlines.

First David dug out the area of all loose dirt in preparation for pouring, built forms from new lumber, and reinforced with adequate rebar (much more than Frank Lloyd Wright ever used; we don't want to rebuild Badboulder in thirty years.

We usually mixed about fifteen to twenty cubic feet with each pouring, always trying to complete the job before nightfall or monsoon storms struck.

One of my most memorable concrete making experiences occurred back in the days when we were mixing with the wheelbarrow and hoe. We were working with forms wedged between boulders and some forms went over boulders. Presence of mind helped keep the skinned spots to a minimum, so I was motivated to work in an attentive manner as opposed to my usual yawning and daydreaming demeanor. We enjoyed a timely finish that day which meant we had time to sit back on the boulders and admire our most recent work. After a bit of rest, I determined that a nearby plant needed water and headed off for the watering can. David reports that almost immediately after I departed, a rattlesnake poked its head up from a crevasse in the rock. Perhaps a rattlesnake bite on the tush would be preferable to a bite on other body parts. Emergency treatment in Yarnell starts with a visit from local volunteers who stabilize a patient, then it's off by helicopter to a medical facility. That snake must have determined to lay low and hope for smaller prey.

Upon moving to Yarnell, I memorized my encyclopedia (remember those tomes) offering on rattlesnakes and was much relieved to learn that rattlers were not aggressive and gave one a friendly little whirring warning. Sixteen years and multiple rattler encounters later, I have yet to meet a single snake that has read that article. A local realtor tells me that indeed rattlesnakes rarely warn until it's too late. She explained that rattlesnakes require three hikers stepping over their bodies to get their attention--the first person wakes the snake, the second ticks it off, and the third gets bitten.

FROM THE KNOTHOLE: Hey, remember me? I am the guy who gets called on when it's time for a rattler to meet its maker. Although we see fewer rattlers as the years go by, you can never let your guard down. From November through April, a rattlesnake sighting is unlikely. I am surprised that Badboulderlady didn't tell you that a rattlesnake documentary was filmed on Boulder Mountain which rises just to the rear of our house. There is some guy in town who is an expert on rattlesnakes. We have heard that he was somehow involved in the documentary. He has been bitten a time or two by rattlers. And, we have heard that his next bite could be fatal because treatment becomes less effective after several bites. A rattlesnake bite is the one thing I fear most about living here in rural Arizona.

a parting shot from bbman: don't try to read every best seller that comes out; you'll drive yourself nuts.