Sacred Dactura, a Favorite Native Plant

After rereading my Virginia Creeper post, I felt the need to counterbalance those barbs I made about some of Badboulder's native plants by singing the praises of most. The high desert chaparral includes evergreen holly oak with red berries, witch hazel, junipers, cypress, rabbit bush and highly prized manzanita just to name a few. We even have a sumac dubbed the tree from heaven or, in my neighbor's words-- hell; we're doing our best to get a stand going along our wash so we call it the tree from heaven. We enjoy a multitude of wildflowers, providing us with year-round blossoms. The amazing wild verbena springs back following cold snaps with tiny purple flowers all winter long. I have cultivated orange mallow, Indian paintbrush, lupines, wild verbena, wild sunflowers, Mexican hats, Colorado four-o'clocks, and poppies with varying degrees of success. My latest venture is to line our roadway with one of a Yarnell summer's beauties-- sacred dactura.

Upon arriving in Yarnell, I walked to work which helped acquaint me with all manner of wild flowers. A mounding plant with luxuriant, long white blossoms caught my attention so I began making inquires. This was a Sacred Dactura, benefiting from irrigation. The encyclopedia related its common name of jimson weed; then, I knew why I had never seen one bloom as my mother yanked any errant jimson out of the ground declaring it would kill our cows. Slowly, through the years, dacturas began to pop up around the village but none at Badboulder. Three years ago, a splendid dactura grew along our wash. Now, four grace our driveway. Occasionally, marauding cows take advantage of Arizona's free range laws and mow down all manner of cultivated vegetation here in Yarnell but never do they munch on the dactura. If they did, I know of no citizen who would mourn their loss.

The seed pods of the dactura are spiky spheres and like the rest of the plant, poisonous if ingested. My plan is to scatter dactura pods along our roadside and hope that we can offer passersby a peek of white with lavender tinged trumpet blossoms next summer.

FROM THE KNOTHOLE: Hey, it's me. I'm back. And it's a good thing. Because there is nothing sacred about a Sacred Dactura. It is a very noxious noxious weed. It is nothing but a weed, jimson weed. The large white blossoms do have some aesthetic value. The thorny spheres might be good for some sort of art project.

a parting shot from bbman: Love your mama.

Virginia Creeper, Tenacious Survivor

One of the first attempts to add a bit of greenery to Badboulder that wasn't prickly, thorny or just downright treacherous( cat's claw) involved the use of plants that had outgrown their space in a friend's yard here in Yarnell and they were FREE. The iris turned out to be quite ordinary, none the less, quite beautiful. The trumpet vine has taken years to thrive, has to be protected from bloom-munching grasshoppers, needs some irrigation, but sports beautiful orange blooms. The star of the give-aways by far has been a Virginia Creeper vine.

At that time we were quite ignorant of the fact that our soil contained no nutrients to sustain any plants other than goat's heads (capable of flattening wheelbarrow tires), thistles (need a cool, soda bath for this one), scrub oak (buy stock in Claritin), and filaree ( cats hate it). The Virginia Creeper has grown gloriously in our hostile environment. We put it into the soil without amending, neglected it for years and now enjoy this magnificent vine in our courtyard. We have found offspring growing in decomposed granite and cracks between concrete foundations. What a plant!

My Sunset Western Gardening book describes Virginia Creeper as native to the Rocky Mountains and eastward which leads us to believe that some homesick gardener must have brought it to Yarnell. It is one of the few deciduous shrubs to flash some bright orange/scarlet color during our brief fall season. It does need fencing or trellising to become much of a climber but with a little help it has attained heights greater than I.

There is a possibility that its cool foliage provides refuge for snakes, so I do not tarry when walking past our courtyard creeper. Now that our deck is complete, I'm ready to transplant a vine or two to mask some of the crawl space underneath.

An ambitious and successful gardener here in Yarnell is hoping to roundup enough of us wannabes to attend a plant-sharing party next spring. I hope to be there with some Virginia Creeper plants to share.

FROM THE KNOTHOLE: Jeepers-creepers, this Virginia Creeper grows like crazy. It may take Round-up to get it under control. It's starting to look like the movie "Green Mansions" around here. In that movie, Anthony Perkins played a reasonably normal, romantic type guy before he was forever fused into the psychotic killer character Norman Bates in the "Psycho" flicks.

a parting shot from bbman: I don't believe in the devil, but I'm afraid of him. That line came from the movie "Usual Suspects," spoken by Kevin Spacey playing the part of a super crook.

The Wallpaper Wars

Long ago and far away, David and I remodeled an old Victorian, now aged to 100 years plus. The original wainscoting was restored and I chose wallpaper above wainscot for two of the rooms. In addition, three bedrooms were adorned with wallpaper on at least one wall. I heard through a friend that when the house was on a grand parade of older homes tour, the new owner said all the wallpaper was mine.

Doesn't everyone change with age? Especially in home decor choices?

Our guest house is so small, there was no spirited discussion on wall color. We agreed that white made for a more spacious look . Not so, the main house. I am quite content with the classic taupe that we both agreed on BUT David insisted on wallpaper--the more the better. Fortunately I had recently read an article on personalizing wallpaper. I'll admit I never thought he would agree to my making the wallpaper when I countered,"Okay, we'll have wallpaper if I can make it myself".

The wall that I used rises from ten to seventeen feet which meant working from scaffolding. My favorite part of the process was selecting art to display. I purchased from used book stores two large books of Italian Renaissance art, fortuitously both were the same dimension. Hard choices were made when I gushed over the pictures displayed on both sides of the same page. Because I like to display the printed word, I included some of the poetry from one of the books and couldn't resist throwing in a few maps of ancient Italy because I liked the background color. I selected several ancient Roman coin prints because their circular shape helped tie corners together on the collage that all this art became. First I sized the new sheet rock wall, then painted on a thin layer of Elmer's glue to a small area at a time. I also painted a thin layer of glue on the backside of my pic, then smoothed it on with wet hands. By trial and error, I discovered that too much smoothing is not a good thing; the results can be "creped" or torn. If a bubble occurred, I just pricked it with a straight pin and pressed out the excess glue.

I loved the results.

FROM THE KNOTHOLE: Hey, it's me, the anchorman of Badboulder, always adhering to truth and objectivity in reporting to you the amazing events that occur behind the green gate in the shadows of Boulder Mountain. The awful truth is, I live in a home with X-rated walls. As you noticed, Badboulderlady called it Italian renaissance art. But, I call it a gratuitous display of genitalia. So, if you come to visit, please don't bring young children.

a parting shot from the bbman: the human female is undoubtedly God's most amazing creature.

Chronicles of Concrete, Chapter Three

Not all of our concrete construction involved foundations;the first floor of Badboulder's main house has masonry walls which means we continued making concrete long after finishing the foundation. In order to build on and around boulders, David constructed forms for stem walls that incorporated the mammoth stones, then used the level surface to continue building with masonry blocks that we filled with rebar and--you guessed it-- concrete. When we reached a height for the tops of doorways and windows, I learned a bit about pouring concrete lintels. The form absolutely had to be accomplished in one pouring and could not be exposed to rain. My job consisted of scooping gallons of concrete and handing them up to David, who has no fear of heights, and didn't mind jostling the concrete to settle it into the form as he swayed on a ladder.

Monsoon storms can be all sound and fury with no precipitation, torrential downpours, gentle rains, and once we even saw rain on the north side of our rental house but not the south. No one but a Yarnellian would believe that could happen but we've seen it all up here. A mountain town is a fantastic setting for storm watchers.

The summer that we poured the walls and lintels was a summer of spectacular storms. We hauled out of bed early in order to get our pourings finished and well covered before those marshmallow clouds started to blow in over the Weaver mountains usually between eleven and one o'clock. We successfully finished ten lintels that summer before tackling the most difficult, one that spanned the two eighteen feet tall boulders. "Super Lintel Day" arrived with a perfect blue sky; the temperature was mild enough that our ancient Ouchita Airedale/Irish wolfhound mix, Kelsey, climbed the hill to watch the action. There are no breaks when making DIY concrete until the job is done, so as usual we set a brisk pace. Not brisk enough for the heavy gray clouds that came roaring in over the Weavers at least two hours earlier than we had experienced before. The lintel was almost done and the sky was dark as dusk until lightning flashes began illuminating our project. Within minutes rain began to fall over the Weavers and as always moved our way. David had time to get those wonderful blue tarps ready. He will have to tell you just how he managed to cover the lintel because Kelsey Dog, who was disturbed by any bit of thunder, and I shivered and shook in the tool shed. Lightning struck a nearby tree and continued to bounce all over Badboulder's hill. David continued to protect the lintel.

It became an unusual feature of our first floor because it frames our territorial window made of wine bottles and mortar. And , that's another concrete story.

FROM THE KNOTHOLE: Hey, remember me, I'm the guy who defies rain and lightning to pour concrete. Ain't she great? She always makes you feel like a damn hero.

a parting shot from bbman: don't buy airline stock.

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.

Chronicles of Concrete, Badboulder DIY Style

Chapter 1

One skill that I learned quickly during the early days of building Badboulder was helping make concrete in a wheelbarrow.

There had never been electricity on site and our local APS representative (a real jerk) assured us there might never be any as we probably wouldn't stay long. We could not apply for electricity until we had a foundation. David recalled making concrete as a kid with his dad back on the farm--without electricity. He bought and read some books. Knowledge is powerful; we made concrete.

A strong wheelbarrow, concrete hoe and shovel comprises the necessary equipment. Five shovelfuls of gravel, three of sand, one of Portland cement mixed with water is the formula. Next comes the physical activity; the products must be shoveled into the wheelbarrow, mixed with a hoe and poured in the desired place. Concrete is heavy and all that mixing with a hoe will not only provide concrete but also improve your muscle tone.

Our first efforts went into an eight by eight storage shed foundation needed to house our building tools (all manual or battery operated as there was no electricity for the likes of us. David tested the balance of sand gravel mix occurring naturally in our dry wash and found it suitable. We shoveled it into the wheelbarrow and pushed it to the site. This worked so well that we expanded the storage shed to a total of 192 square feet, all foundation concrete made from product from our wash.

Next, we started the guest house and were able to pour concrete for about two/thirds of the project from local sand and gravel. Then, we began to purchase dump truckloads which we've continued to do. All of our guest home, the storage shed, rose arbor and garage foundations are made of hand-mixed concrete.

We smiled a lot the day we acquired our old used Sears clunker of an electric concrete mixer. A local resident bought it to transport to Mexico to construct his own home then decided it wasn't the best idea he ever had and offered it up for sale. It's still clunking after spinning out tons of concrete and stucco for us.

Thus we began the process of making the incredible amount of concrete needed for the foundation of Badboulder's main house. It was during this phase of the building that I sat on a rattlesnake and lived to tell the story which I'll get around to in the next chapter. Enough of this concrete making history--I'm going to bake a fresh plum tart.

Oh yes, the APS guy retired back to Kentucky a year later. We're still here buying electricity and making concrete.

FROM THE KNOTHOLE: Yup, it's me, I'm the guy who gets up at 5:30 in the morning and mixes concrete with my sweet Badboulderlady. She's going to tell you that it is dangerous business building a house here in the middle of Arizona. Fighting off rattlesnakes, dodging lightening bolts, living among scorpions, tarantulas, ants, bees, wasps, hornets, ugly rhino beetles, and noseeums. Oh! Ouch! Hey, Badboulderlady, what do you have for this bite? Don't know what bit me. Maybe a big shot of Old Granddad? If it don't work, at least I will die happy. Okay, well, maybe I'll see you all next time. More Old Granddad, please. Oh, that really hurts.

a parting shot from bbman: never loan your car to anyone.

DIY Tile Floors,Another "Green" Effort

Because we live in the wilderness of AZ, images of javalinas, mountain lions, scorpions, and rattlesnakes--not to mention an occasional Gila monster--represent many people's perception of our yards and gardens. In reality what we live with day in and day out is lots of granite--literally tons and tons. I'm especially fascinated with the boulders strewn all over our mountain but the granite that I deal with most is of the decomposed sort. Folks who've lived here twenty years or so just refer to it as DG. It doesn't just cover our driveways and paths, it works its way into our houses. And that is just one of the reasons that tile flooring is wonderful. Vacuum, mop and it looks new again.

We did discuss many options but always came back to tile.

Thirteen years ago, an artist in Scottsdale gave David and I tons of tile. We rented a U-Haul truck, brought it up the mountain and hid the tile in a grove of manzanitas until we had some floors constructed. This tile is better traveled than I, originating in Turkey, Brazil, France, Spain, Mexico, the good ole USA but most are from Italy. Colors include every shade of beige known to man, browns, blacks, greens, white and terra cotta. We found a picture of a mosaic arrangement of broken tile in a Lowe's how-to book and went with it. One of my jobs in the tiling process is to don some astonishingly gorgeous safety goggles and smack tiles with a hammer. I actually like this a lot. We use all the pieces, both great and small, adhering them to cement board with a masonry product called thin set. The tiles are grouted with Mapei Keracolor sanded with Polymer in a straw color purchased at Lowe's. Six inch Tuscan bone tiles, also purchased at Lowe's, are used for baseboards. I smash a few of these to mix with the random others to tie the look together.

In order to personalize the floors, I have incorporated favorite pebbles collected from those life-enhancing moments--weddings, christenings, vacations. The floors also sport an element solely for fun, small brass turtles. My absolute favorite store in Yarnell, The Emporium, sells these little garden gems for about $3.50 each and I have purchased enough to cement at least one in every room. When we finish each floor, all my little visiting friends and most of the adults search for the turtle. I do place the turtles in an area that receives little traffic as too much scrubbing will wear off the paint a bit exposing the brass which isn't a bad thing.

The finished product says a lot about who we are and where we've been and I like that.

I consider this floor tiling project green because we used tile that was headed for a landfill and because the tile floor requires little maintenance--one squirt of detergent and a cup of vinegar in the mopping water which gets poured on a weed I don't like when I'm through. That's not too bad in our chemical infused world. Perhaps the best green of all is the green it saved us.

FROM THE KNOTHOLE: Well, here I am, that's me, the guy who runs around the world with his pocket full of pebbles that Badboulderlady has dropped into them once her purse is full. She's pretty nuts, don't you all think? And how about that free tile she is gushing about? Free, huh? Cost me a whole Sunday, a very hot one at that. Drove a hundred miles to Phoenix, rented a U-Haul truck that was truly on its last leg, drove to Scottsdale to pick up the tile, loaded it by hand, hauled it back up the mountain to Yarnell. The U-Haul truck had a full half turn of play in the steering wheel, had no A/C, overheated coming up the Yarnell mountain, and belched out very noxious odors and smoke into the cabin. So we piled the tile out in our front yard, and quickly headed back to Phoenix to turn in the truck in order to avoid an extra day of rental charge. Because of the heat, the smoke, and physical exertion, I really didn't feel that great. But, you know, anything for "free" tile.

parting shot from bbman: don't buy cheap tools.