Tales From The Crooked Shed

I lived in a small house on a dead end street at the bottom of a long drive on the island of Maui for sixteen years. I have lived along the scenic byway in the even smaller Hale Mana at the bottom of a longer drive in the wilderness of North Carolina for eight. Stuff rolls down hill and accumulates no matter how remote, what size the house and how long the drive.

I needed the Crooked Shed. I have more stuff again. It accumulates.

Today the painting was finished. The first shelf was hung. The roof peaks were bat barricaded. I have all kind varmints.

There were wild pigs on Maui. I have my own wild pigs in North Carolina.

They are ripping up the Great Lawn. It annoys me. I put in a call to my hunter.

It begins quiet in a blue meadow in the first light of day. The creatures of the night have finished their shift. As the sun rises, flocks of small song birds begin dive bombing the wild flowers. The daytime chorus of migration takes over.

Life always flows through gardens.

I have seen a solitary monarch butterfly feeding in the meadow every day this week. I don't know if it was the same one hanging out and resting for a bit or a new one each day. It was always just one. Monarchs are not very common up here. I see them for a short period mostly in the fall.

Today there were a half a dozen Monarchs feeding in the meadow at any given time. I have three kind milkweed growing up here, but have never seen any signs of them using it to breed. They were all fresh and perfect. I assume they are just passing through. Up here on the continental divide I always wonder which way they are headed.

My pile of collectibles has been sitting out in the weather for a very long time. It was officially turning to junk. The wood in there is officially rotted. After eight years, it is time for this pile to go.

So it began. The collectibles are in flux. The first layer was examined and sorted. Some of it is going to be carted back up the drive and deaccumulated. The rotten wood will be burned. The pile will eventually disappear. Something new can go there.

So how much stuff can a crooked shed hold. That is the question. The exterior decorating has already begun. It will look so much nicer than a pile of junk when people roll down my drive.

And The Garden Bloomed On

It is dry, dry, dry, and drier. There is a slight chance of rain in the next 48 hours. I sure hope some wet finds me. The Tall Flower Meadow blooms on, though signs of a struggle are getting more noticeable.

It would be remiss of me not letting you go strolling when the meadows are in peak bloom. My bones are weary so I must let you wander on your on. Click on a picture for the slide show.

A Sign?

It is dry, dry, dry and getting drier. The Great Lawn sits in a wet bowl and remains perfectly green. It is perfect for pigs and every other kind varmints. There is a deer on the lawn in this very picture, hidden a bit by a deer high Tall Flower Meadow.

Now picture this, the old man on his front porch bellowing out to indifference, 'Get off my lawn!' It's pointless. They're all pigs.

Dark clouds rolled in this evening to tease. If any water falls, it will be a surprise. It got so dark my natural vibration and the shutter speed went Monet.

One rather large single black locust perched itself motionless, dead center in the peak of the Crooked Shed like a big shiny trinket. Quite fascinating.

It's dry, dry, dry out there and I'm seeing locust. The pigs are still invisible.

Hale Mini - The Crooked Shed

I stuck to my original color choices. Two more walls and trim got painted, but once you have seen the crooked, no amount of lipstick can make you unsee it.

I have a crooked shed, deep blue, with flow. Things have left the house and not returned. That is a good sign. The shed is working. It is a mighty fine shed.

And the whole world has turned blue with my crooked shed.

I have wild pigs. You can't put lipstick on that. It or they are pecking the crap out of the Great Lawn and beyond in the dark of the night.

I do have to give the pigs some credit. Like all the other varmints, they are quite good about using the paths provided and don't go stomping all over things. So far. They don't make any kind noise that I have heard. They are stealth peckers, pecking holes all over the paths and lawn. Damn varmints!!!!!!!!

It is the time of blue asters out there.

And one mighty fine looking crooked shed.

This morning the cut in work and more trim got done. One back wall to go.

Hale Mini - The Crooked Shed is going to fit right in.

In all this blue.

Around A Drought

It is dry, dry, dry with no rain in the near term diagnosis.

Floods and drought and pestilence. It's all normal now.

The Stinkbugs are coming in to roost.

I wander in the Lush, a human vector.

You can click on a picture for the slide show anytime.

Don't let the rickety fence fool you, I live in a full on uncaged zoo.

There have been several days of dark clouds with no water.

The temperature dropped, not water. This could be the end of okra. I harvested my third big sack.

The seed heads of Fly Poison.

Where Angelica dance.

Menehune roam.

And a Tall Flower Meadow explodes in bloom.

The Stink Bugs are like Mexican jumping beans. They have startled the cats.

The clouds roll in and the dry color tries to come out.

I don't think the camera is doing it justice.

I still have old eyes, but this is so busy I wonder if anyone can visually process it. And the color? Well you would just have to see it in person, preferably in the right light, to get the full effect.

Something is digging little puka and pulling out 'grass' all over the Great Lawn and beyond. I think it's a pig.

The bottom of my garden is still wet from the floods. Strangely wet. A past life as a small stream is showing itself. It's very lumpy, not so comfortable to walk and getting worse.

I've been wondering. I had a look at my neighbor's busted vats of pond scum up above me. There is no telling where that big leak flows.

Pigs like wet.