The Green Gate

Shortly before we purchased Badboulder, Mr. Pierce's prospecting cabin didn't take well with "blowin' in the wind" and fell down in a storm. The realtors told us they could no longer market the property as a fixer-upper; locals quickly carried off most of the lumber and there wasn't much left except rusty nails when we bought the lot. We gave some of the lumber to a local artist to use in making picture frames.

After finding enough cigarette butts at our front (and only) entrance to indicate quite a party had taken place, we decided in the interest of fire prevention we had immediate need of a gate. David used the salvageable materials to construct two of the three panels that we still use today.

I really liked the look of aged wood; however, the elements were taking their toll and it didn't match the panel constructed of new lumber. Paint was the answer--Amazon green paint. I had my doubts but compromise truly has its rewards. Amazon green grows on one--not sure about the neighbors.

The green color provides a great backdrop for our retired wheelbarrows of zinnias and marigolds and it looks good in our winter snowstorms. In autumn the gate gives our scarecrows a fence to lean on and usually supports a pile of pumpkins to tempt the javalinas. We've discovered that the pumpkins must be soaked in gasoline to repel those thieves. Come Independence Day, the stars and stripes on the gate welcome in visitors. For Christmas, the gate is dressed in giant red velvet bows. So far, the javalinas haven't developed a taste for fabric, plastic, marigolds or zinnias.

High desert chaparral survives frequent droughts in a brown state and the pop of green livens things up around here. We've talked of a new-fangled solar operated gate for ease of opening but I predict the green gate will win out. I would favor two or three more panels to support the trumpet vines which began to wow us after only sixteen years!

FROM THE KNOTHOLE: Hey, it's me again, up her, in the knothole, keeping an eye on things. And that Amazon green gate sure stands out. As it turns out, green is a most appropriate color for Badboulder. Green is no longer the name of a soothing color; the word green has become the touch stone identity of a global movement to save the planet. To more or less borrow the words of George Jones and Barbara Mandrell who sang about being country before country was cool, Badboulderlady and I were also country before country was cool, but getting to the point, we were green before green was cool. We grew up in the Ozarks where material things were not plentiful. The mantra we lived by in the Ozarks was "use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without." School dresses were made of feed sack cloth, clothing was patched to increase its useful life, food was grown at home, we shopped locally, soda bottles were returned to the store to be used again, worn out shoes went to the repair shop, to point out a few examples of living green growing up. We have some ownership in the green movement. When Badboulderlady and I went away to the university of Missouri in Columbia, MO, a popular campus hangout was called the
Green Door. Although we were not frequent patrons of the Green Door where beer and greasy food were served, the place was so unique that it has come to exemplify the overall college experience. So, you see, it is little wonder that green came to mind when choosing a fitting color for the Badboulder entrance gate.

a parting shot from bbman: go west, young man. These words were first penned in 1851 by an Indiana newspaper writer named John Soule, but popularized by Horace Greeley, a newspaper editor. The well-known words became the mantra of nineteenth century american migration westward to the pacific. "Go West, Young Man" was also the name of a 1936 comedy movie starring Mae West. Seems not much has changed. Men are still drawn to new frontiers and well endowed women.

Fun with Concrete--Wine Bottle Window

We really do love rocks here at Badboulder; our downstairs kitchen and pantry space built around four sizable ones is a true testament to our attachment. The two largest, eighteen feet tall, take a huge chunk out of usable space but provide appreciable cooling during our searing summer season. Our engineer brother-in-law once remarked that if we ever got the boulders hot, we would need no heat the rest of the winter. We wish!

The two towering boulders have provided us with the perfect space for an interesting window. I have read about early territorial windows made by necessity from bottles in the Tucson area and it gave me the idea of using that same strategy for a natural space between our twin boulders (see Concrete Chronicles, chapter three, for a picture).

David experimented with a couple of wine bottle fences before trying the technique on our house. I like the fences so well, wish we had more of them but there's been a house to build; maybe someday.

In order to expose only the bottoms of the bottles on both the exterior and the interior of our home, he had to devise a new plan. We ordered a bottle cutter that removed the neck of the bottle (this was somewhat popular in the seventies for DIY glasses) and worked with matching pairs, one for the interior the other for exterior. The bottles were duct taped together to form a cylinder, then mortared into the space two layers at a time. The slower application allowed the mortar to harden, providing strength for the next two layers and avoiding a collapse. At eye level we mortared in a round eighteen-inch window to catch a few sun rays and a bit of a spying opportunity as well. We installed a decorative iron window to protect the round glass as replacement is nothing we want to face. The prospector who lived here during the early 1900's left us a goodly supply of whiskey bottles, so we put a pair of those in the mix. On the interior, David encircled the round window with green beer bottles; this is not visible on the exterior. By adding the beer bottle element, the amount of bottles used in our window project totaled ninety-nine. Makes me think he took too many band trips back in his high school days when everyone sang Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall--probably to annoy the bus driver.

Light does shine through the bottles of all colors--amber, clear, brown, green and blue. I especially enjoy the window during our short winter days. One visitor deemed the window his favorite part of our house. I'm very happy with it because it follows the natural space created by the boulders and pays homage to the pioneers who used materials at hand. We've had plenty of friends willing to bestow us with their empties.

FROM THE KEYHOLE: 99 bottles of beer on the wall, take one down, pass it around.....oh, it's me. Better get back to business. Yes, bottle windows are fun, especially making the bottles empty. Ever notice most wine bottles are green. Some brown, some amber, and a few are blue. Cheap wine comes in clear glass, so I had a lot of clear bottles. But no red wine bottles. Anyone ever seen a red wine bottle? If you have, please let me know.

a parting shot from bbman: waste not, want not.