Heat Sink

Over the course of the last few weeks most of our efforts have been directed at the construction of the HEAT SINK. This bad boy has gone through many stages, the most recent of which was widespread pebble and stone washing, which is about as much fun as it sounds. But as it was Parsley and I doing it there was roars of laughter, clay catapulting and one liners that would've made Bob Monkhouse jealous. My favourite lines were 'If you know what a noise sounds like you can hear it.' (Parsley), 'Ew, you're kicking shit in my face,' (Parsley) and 'Get in your pit you pig!' (Parsley). I took to screaming COTTON TRADERS alternating between a Texan twang and a silver spoon upper class lilt. This will take too long to explain and is as insular a joke as you could expect to find. Just know we found it hilarious. Cakeatonne didn't!

Just why were we cleaning millions of pebbles? Well in Parsley's infinite wisdom we were removing layers of crud (mostly orange clay) as this would impede the flow of air round the pebbles and stones once they were in the sink. At first I sneered and jeered at the idea but the amount of slop we sloshed off in the course of a few days was pretty substantial. We were all over the place - at the back of the garden in the yard area; over by the apple trees; in the centre of the garden where there's always a lovely wildflower collection in Summer - always spraying with the hose and shaking the crap off in a riddle (a true garden implement not a brain teaser). I was carrying trugs of sludge water around like an ape and pouring it off onto hedges, anywhere that wasn't already SOAKED. The mess that was left behind we called FLOP. I will discuss this horrid substance in a separate blog because it's worth it.

Last Friday we put the heat sink together and lowered it into the hole in the solardome. Various experiments were made to see whether the air was flowing through the pipes properly. In the final instance we took a hair dryer and blasted it down the pipes and that worked a big cakey dream! We then started to lob in all the clean(ish) stones and pebbles we had accrued over the last few weeks. Eventually Parsley will fill the rest of the hole with water filled coke bottles. As it stands at the moment we are approx 1/4 of the way to filling the cage. See below for the sequence of crazy events that doth a heat sink make.

Spring hath Sprung

I dedicate this entry to the start of a very beautiful and promising Spring. The following is lifted, almost verbatim from my diary of 2011, March 24:

Hot green tea from a metal mug, plucking the odd leaf from my lips as Alice stuffs a soggy receipt in her mouth. A trip to the tip or the dump with a seasoned, evasive man in hi-vis jacket asking questions about post code and rubbish type. Com Truise, mesmeric, setting sci fi themes to odd buildings. Jacob and I - quips pertaining to strength et al. Gloves half useless. The smash of porcelain, mirrors, gnomes and a silver terminator toy with gun upraised. Today, I noticed all these things...Earth boy. My fingers smell of woodsmoke. A visit from Gigasmethwick - a bead of saliva as he rolled his large skull against the stone, utterly content. Yes. Yes. 

Fix a Pear Tree, Dig a Hole

Happy 2012 followers and non followers of G Unit alike! There has been a distinct yawning hiatus since our last entry, way back in September 2011. Plenty has taken place between then and now, so I am on catchup / ketchup.

In open defiance of the cold (it has been mild until now) we have been hitting the garden like it's Spring. First port of call was the pear tree which has been listing like Michael Jackson in Smooth Criminal. Cakeatonne and I took it in turns to push it into an upright position whilst we slipped pieces of timber in place, supported by stakes. The surrounding area was a battleground of oozy mud, so we were slipping around and swearing like Jack Tars. Tipping soil from a nearby bag we levelled (somewhat badly) the area around the roots and then splashed on some grass sods. Nothing like the careful planning of Parsley, but she was at work.

Fair pear! 

This week we have been putting in the extra work on a heat sink in the solardome. I'm not going to go into the science of this bad boy but it will be amazing once its done. All I know is how to dig a hole, and even then I need supervision! We've made good progress, through the many layers of soil, from guinness black at the top, through to dusty grey and orange clay. Sparks have been flying - literally. Using the grub and mattock (fast becoming a favourite tool) Cake and I were bashing hoards of rocks and pebbles, getting ever deeper. There were some absolute classic quotes: 

Oregano: 'C'wor getting out of this hole is proving to be more difficult than I thought. If I'm not careful, I'm gonna split my kipper, and I don't EVEN HAVE ONE!'

Parsley: 'Eww don't say that, can't you say I split my YOM KIPPUR?'

Oregano; 'Yeeeeeah! YOM KIPPUR YOM KIPPUR!'

Parsley: 'Dig all the brown away and slam it in the John Barrowman (wheelbarrow).'

Cakeatonne with a meat thermometer in his hand: 'Leave it out or I'll take the TEMPERATURE OF YOUR BAMO!'

How we laughed.

It was interesting to see how much warmer it was below the surface. Above / top level it was 0.5 C. At the bottom of the 'pit' it was a seasonable 6 C. This bodes well for the sink.  

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Editor's note: We are soon going to implement some changes, so keep your eyes peeled! 

Once You Lop You Just Can't Stop

Once again I found myself scrambling up some steep ladders to do some lopping this week. This time it was a conifer. Under the instigation of Parsley I went scrambling up, armed with a natty new bow-saw, a pair of Fiskars loppers and a mini tree saw. Not all at once mind! I'm no octopus.

Overcoming my initial fear of heights I went up for the first cut. It was damn difficult as I was getting scratched to high heaven by all the surrounding twigs and branches. Prickly little fuckers! But once I'd got some of them out the way the cutting proper was swift and merciless. The first cut is the deepest as the saying goes. Took me two journeys to chop down the first part of the main trunk. Barely had time to alert Parsley as a huge branch replete with slapping leaves came hurtling down towards her; not so much as a TIIIM BURTON! Had a second go at it after that, cutting off another 2 feet approx.

The other branches were much easier, although by now I was getting cocky and there were flying branches knocking off stone bird baths and ivy. 'Push it towards the dome!' or 'Not towards the arrch!' screamed Parsley. Well she didn't scream but she could've done.

Once the main body had been cut (we surveyed from upstairs to get the lowdown), I went up again to trim off the rogue bits and dismantle a pigeons nest. Don't worry no chicks this time of year. Then Parsley did the nice cosmetic part, tidying it up so it didn't look like topiary gone hideously wrong. Ten bags of cuttings and a couple of trunks later we sat down to sup Polish lager and a bottle of wine that could rip the varnish off floorboards. Cheers Bargain (B)ooze. Cheers.

Crazy Paving!

Here I am on a blazer of a Sunday afternoon, incongruously swathed in thermal underwear. It's been a fair while since I blogged and as ever there have been some great antics going on. If by antics you include bomb sized marrows with their very own handles, leveling shrapnel infested soil or eating chicken chowder and talking about prostate checks under the safety of a September solardome then, yes winks there have been antics.

The subject of this blog relates to an antic known as POWER WASHING HEXAGONAL PAVING SLABS. Pulling out and rigging up the Wolf Blaster Max (see link below incase you've forgotten) was a job in its own right. This lovely little piece of equipment can literally tear the skin off your body.

http://parsleyandoregano.blogspot.com/2011/06/over-moon-in-june.html

So caution had to be taken. We're talking the full Craig David here - big earphones, goggs and gloves. Transporting each of the slabs over to the other side of the garden (Parsley never likes things to be easy, even when they're perfect there will be another task, like shifting the house a couple of degrees west so it gets more sunlight etc), I slammed them on a giant tarpaulin bag. On with the Wolf to clean off the impacted dirt and scuz. For the most part it worked a big cakey dream. In my own way I felt like one of those restorers who cleans years of soot etc off the roof of the Sistine Chapel. In another mode I felt very happy to be holding a power tool feeling like I could advertise it on TV. Only people with hair like mine appear as extras in Game of Thrones, not a power tool in sight for this warlock!

Witticisms included: 'Diet Irn Bru break,' (Parsley) 'Diet Panda Coke Break,' (Parsley) and 'It categorically cannot be Panda Coke. Because whenever you say Coke it belongs to Coca Cola. It's Panda Cola!' (Cakeatonne). 'Awfully rich.' (Parsley and Oregano in response to Cakeatonne's snobbery). 'Girls Aloyd' (All three of us!)

We're about half way through cleaning them. They will look awesome in the solardome. Watch this space. Space rhymes with what? PACE. (Peace).

Summer Slam Part II

Now let's consider the flowery side of things. For the most part my patience and assiduity have paid off. The garden at Rue Albert has been action packed all the way through the last few months. In no particular order: we've had the hollyhocks bloom beautifully - starting off purple crimson, developing into a light burgundy, climbing well above six feet. Matching them for height have been my Italian white sunflowers, which though somewhat scrawny have still flowered beautifully. Special mention goes to my ruby eclipse sunflower which at current has ten flowering heads on the way! The chocolate, red sun and autumn beauty varieties have been slower to emerge and I'm still waiting on them. Same for the teddy bear variety which was largely chomped by slugs, but there's a few of them on the way.

Poppies have gone mental, as ever varied and magical. The opium poppies especially. The seed heads are like Persian towers!

The foxgloves (foxy mixed?!) may have come over from Sam's garden, but I did sow some of my own seeds last year. They have positively swarmed at the bottom of the garden. I love the texture of the leaves, silky, furry and fiendish. Slightly further up the nasturtiums have staked their claim to the fence and the ground, exploding in tangerine flames. A slightly wilted looking chocolate cosmos sits amongst them. Sweet peas trail up the fence. I am really proud of these. At first I was set to give up on them, as I was running out of space. However, throughout Summer we have had a constant supply of sweet smelling cut flowers for the living room and our respective bedrooms. Waking up to a subtle waft of honey will put some UMMMF in your day let me tell you!

Some blue cornflowers make a nice cool addition to all the reds, yellows and oranges, as does the hydra headed white cosmos that Sir Cakeatonne pledged to my cause.

The pond is looking good. The white lily has flowered on two occasions, beautiful for it's brevity. The leaves themselves house egg clusters on their underside - I'm assuming they belong to the newts as we have seen the first babies chillaxing just under the surface. The water soldiers have tripled in size, with the water hyacinths multiplying at a rate of knots. Still no flowers on them though!

The ludicrously munificent Malva zebrinas have come on a big cakey dream. Less so the African daisies - out of 300+ seeds I have had about five of them flower. Still waiting on the Gladioli to appear. Both the arisaema have grown a single leaf, but now appear to be in a kind of stasis. Won't see any flowers this year methinks! The same can't be said for all our lilies, which were universally amazing. Same goes for the Park Princess Dahlia. SMOOSH!

Overall, the garden is very beautiful. I love sitting on the bench, watching the bees, feeling the sun on my pythons...I've worked for this! And there's still much more to be done.

Summer Slam Part I

It seems strange to be writing about Summer when there's hailstones smashing off the roof, but here goes. It has been a tremendous season of gardening with amazing one liners flying from all directions: 'C'wor look at this slug! It looks like a dog shit / a burger!' 'Dig in and mong out!' 'I'm sweating like a pre-abattoir pig!' We have been so busy at our various schemes, I have quite let the time escape me and sadly neglected the blog. No mo'.

We have moved an oak tree and possibly killed it. We have laid down a path round the back of the solar dome, which involved car loads of brick transportation on the sly, a lot of swearing and complete whingeing on my part...OU THUNDER!..real time writing at its best here people; we have shaved down a huge part of the privet at the back of the garden, which involved any amount of jousting, eye-sweat-in-the-goggles and python testing. We have laughed at Alan in full woodcutter mode smooshing logs with his log splitter. I tried it and completely failed. Haaaaa.

Tragically one of the apple trees at Rue Albert gave up the ghost a few weeks ago, and completely snapped at the base. I had to saw it down then using a panoply of tools hack it into small pieces to be taken away. Two full trugs of apples went into the compost bin after being sliced and diced by my trusty Spear and Jackson spade a.k.a Samson. Let me tell you that compost dalek is kicking off a hell of a stink right now!

Parsley and I made a huge push on our garden thereafter. We trimmed back the dead or decayed branches of the second apple tree - which is much larger and superabundant, although it lists to the right terribly. We completely cut back a part of the elder tree as it was rotting from the base, then had a go at the security hedge (name escapes me), the hawthorn and another branch which came right across from Sam's garden. Using a bow saw and the unmitigated power of combined pythonage we razzed through branches, logs, twigs, getting loads of scratches like they were merit marks. 'Ed, you look tired, you should take a break,' 'I will, I just gotta razz through this last bit here,' etc. Nothing to do with Razy Gogonea, honest. As if that wasn't enough we later razzed down a huge part of the buddleia tree in order to make it more bushy for next year. It was the hardest I'd worked all year, finishing only at around nine p.m with somewhere in the region of fifteen or sixteen gardening bags all lined up. Whew!