The Angry Remake of Forward Zone Alpha
Mar. 3rd, 2008 12:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
errantemberSo there's this rectangular area in front of my house, delineated by a sidewalk, that previously has just sort-of sat there. It's actually perfect for a vegetable garden, because it gets lots of sun, is very close to the house, but just far enough from the street not to draw too much focus. My intention is to use the greywater from the kitchen sink, run it through a small constructed wetland to sweeten it a little, and then irrigate the garden and a small water feature. This water comes 365 days a year, like clockwork, and currently just goes down the drain. I use eco-friendly dish soap, and not much of that, and also do almost all of my own dishes by hand.
Like many permaculture projects, this one starts with the brutal murder of existing plants, habitat, and wildlife.
In the grand tradition of impatient, meglomaniacal psychopaths everywhere, I compensated for my inability to creatively envision the final result by destroying everything that didn't fit. The wicked gleam in my eye reflected off the shining, hungry tree saw blade, I systematically decapitated three boxwoods, a nandina, and a sage bush. Their scrubbiness, ill placement, and lack of symmetry clearly had no place in the glorious New Order of Forward Zone Alpha. Then began the Great Uprooting. I have a bed inside FZA filled with two things: plumbago, and lava rock. By the time the blood on my hands was starting to dry, I had manually filled a twenty gallon bin with lava rock, and pried, pulled, and ripped the deep roots of the 10-year old non-edible, non-multi-function plumbago from its precious home to lie twisted and forgotten in the soon-to-be-murdered bermuda grass. I could have re-potted it for someone else, or just to save its life, but I *didn't*.
Next came the shutters. Whoever last owned the house evidently thought that painting shutters the same color as the trim, then nailing them to the front of the house despite the fact that they aren't even close to the same height as the windows would help sell the house.
And so it *did*. To me, and my Absolute Power!
Down came the hammer. Off came the shutters. Sorry Mr. Lizard, guess you'll have to find someone else to live now! Hello yellowjackets! I guess the other 50 nests I've let you maintain elsewhere on my house aren't enough for you. I see you're trying to sting me. Are you familiar with The Great Flood? Perhaps my hose attachment can fill you in! And I've got this handy "shower" setting to pick off stragglers. As much fun as it is to watch you die twitching in under ten seconds when I use the wasp spray, converted from God's Creation to rotting meat in mid-flight, there's something clean and powerful about simply blowing you off the house with the wasp-scale equivalent of 1000 fire hoses. And it smells better.
I hope you don't think I'm enjoying this.
So now the partially scrubby-looking previous facade has been converted to the suburban equivalent of an empty lot. The detritus of its former glory lies twisted and sun-bleached on the blasted remains of yesterday. Every time I come out of the house, I'm shocked by how ugly and un-done it looks.
But, when I look more closely, I'm starting to see the future!
Like many permaculture projects, this one starts with the brutal murder of existing plants, habitat, and wildlife.
In the grand tradition of impatient, meglomaniacal psychopaths everywhere, I compensated for my inability to creatively envision the final result by destroying everything that didn't fit. The wicked gleam in my eye reflected off the shining, hungry tree saw blade, I systematically decapitated three boxwoods, a nandina, and a sage bush. Their scrubbiness, ill placement, and lack of symmetry clearly had no place in the glorious New Order of Forward Zone Alpha. Then began the Great Uprooting. I have a bed inside FZA filled with two things: plumbago, and lava rock. By the time the blood on my hands was starting to dry, I had manually filled a twenty gallon bin with lava rock, and pried, pulled, and ripped the deep roots of the 10-year old non-edible, non-multi-function plumbago from its precious home to lie twisted and forgotten in the soon-to-be-murdered bermuda grass. I could have re-potted it for someone else, or just to save its life, but I *didn't*.
Next came the shutters. Whoever last owned the house evidently thought that painting shutters the same color as the trim, then nailing them to the front of the house despite the fact that they aren't even close to the same height as the windows would help sell the house.
And so it *did*. To me, and my Absolute Power!
Down came the hammer. Off came the shutters. Sorry Mr. Lizard, guess you'll have to find someone else to live now! Hello yellowjackets! I guess the other 50 nests I've let you maintain elsewhere on my house aren't enough for you. I see you're trying to sting me. Are you familiar with The Great Flood? Perhaps my hose attachment can fill you in! And I've got this handy "shower" setting to pick off stragglers. As much fun as it is to watch you die twitching in under ten seconds when I use the wasp spray, converted from God's Creation to rotting meat in mid-flight, there's something clean and powerful about simply blowing you off the house with the wasp-scale equivalent of 1000 fire hoses. And it smells better.
I hope you don't think I'm enjoying this.
So now the partially scrubby-looking previous facade has been converted to the suburban equivalent of an empty lot. The detritus of its former glory lies twisted and sun-bleached on the blasted remains of yesterday. Every time I come out of the house, I'm shocked by how ugly and un-done it looks.
But, when I look more closely, I'm starting to see the future!
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no subject
Date: 2008-03-03 07:49 am (UTC)2. I look forward to hearing the rest of your glorious Five Year Plan.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-03 08:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-03 10:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-03 03:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-03 03:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-03 09:12 pm (UTC)It's ok that they don't spit fire...
Date: 2008-03-03 09:14 pm (UTC)Killing cacodemons with the chainsaw was the *best*!
*grindgrindGRINDgrindgrindGRINDgrindPOP!*
Re: It's ok that they don't spit fire...
Date: 2008-05-28 01:05 am (UTC)