Sprinkler System Surgery

 We have a sprinkler system. In this state, you really need one if you want a green lawn through the winter and spring. That is our dry season. Without it, the lawn tends to die back until the summer rains start, and those haven’t been as regular as they once were. Over the years we’ve replaced the pump… 3 times. Added or removed, raised or moved many a sprinkler head. At least once a year we have to wander the yard, with the system running, and clear all the heads of sand, grit, and grass to give them a clear shot at their assigned watering space. 

 The other day we noticed that most of station two was sputtering and surging, and generally not spraying right. There was no obvious sign of a leak on this station. No fountaining of water by one of the heads, no stream of water running into the road. We’d added a new head to station two a number of years ago. Up until then, it seemed fine. Maybe it was time to take that head back out. So we dug around that added head and capped it off.

 No Change. Well shoot, that meant we had a larger job on our hands. 

 There were two palm trees in the front yard when we moved into the house. After Hurricane Andrew made landfall in south Florida, a landscaping company offered us $75 for one of the trees. We accepted the offer and offered them a second palm as well. Two for one. We used that money to buy four live oak trees ranging in size from 2 inches to a half inch around. Those trees are now between 2-3 feet in diameter. There in lies our problem. Oak tree roots.

 On the north side of the driveway, about 6 feet from the sidewalk, stands one of those oaks.  We planted it where one of the palm trees had stood, near the location where station two rises after passing under the concrete. In fact, when the landscaping company removed the palm they broke, then repaired, the pipe from station two. We know the pipe passes nearly under the oak, and we know the oak’s roots have been pushing the nearby sprinkler heads askew since shortly after we planted it. 

 We started with the sprinkler head between the sidewalk and the oak. It was pretty leaned over and we thought maybe there was a cracked pipe there. It would be an easier dig, if that was the problem. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on what we hoped to find, there was no sign of damage.

 On to our next suspected problem child. This head was wedged up against a large root next to the driveway. This was also the site of a repair Edward had made 8 years ago, when the same tree’s roots had cracked the pipes, sending water cascading down the driveway.

Digging around this head was complicated by an abundance of roots. We cleared the dirt immediately around the head, but saw no indication of a broken pipe. When we expanded the hole, uncovering the previous repair, we found the problem. The 3/4 inch round, flexile PVC pipe Edward had installed in 2007 was now a flattened and stretched PVC pipe, having gotten that way as the root expanded over the intervening years. What’s more, the pressure of the root had caused the joint to fail and leak, fueling the roots expansion by providing a water source directly to it. 

 Clearly, we needed to repair that piping again. Easier said then done.

 There was little clear pipe around the leaking joint and head. That meant more digging, at least until we could find pipe we could cut and glue new joints to. An hour and a half after we started, with the sun setting, we had at least found the pipes we needed. Next up: Clearing the roots securely wrapped around those pipes. 

 Before leaving work that day, I borrowed a SawzAll. I knew we were going to be dealing with some large roots and the odds of our needing to cut roots was near 100%. Previous repairs had required the use of a hand saw on wayward roots. I didn’t figure this time would be any different, and a SawZall just might make the job a whole lot easier. But that would have to wait until morning. We’d have better light and a fresh start. We covered the hole and left the mosquitoes to wonder where their free meal had gone.

 I’d bought a wood cutting blade for the saw on the way home. The first cut was a 2-inch root. The saw went through it like a knife through butter. The next two cuts were just as easy. The last cut was a 4-inch root at that was the joining of the first two, and that took a lot more sawing. I’m not convinced we could have cut that root without the SawzAll.  It took about five minutes to get through. A little more digging and we had clear spots to cut the pipes.

 We decided that we would remove that sprinkler head permanently. Having a head in that location would mean continuing to fuel root growth. It’s given that sprinkler heads leak. Especially these old heads. We decided to simply pipe around the roots, still using the flexible PVC, leaving at least 3 inches, if not more, of free space between the pipe and the root. We also reinstalled the head we’d capped off two nights before, returning the number of heads on that station to 9 heads, what we had originally started with in 1992.

 Then came the moment of truth. Was this going to be the problem? Were the pipes under the oak tree cracked? If so, we were going to have to call in the pros. Station two would have to be relaid by a different route. 

 Edward turned on station two and… up came the heads, spraying much better. What’s more, the pump was no longer struggling to get water through the system. Relieving the stress on the pump will lengthen its life as well. There were no signs of any leaks on the pipes just installed. 

 We filled in the hole and crossed our fingers. We had to wait more than 48 hours until our next watering day before the system could run for full cycle. When Thursday came, station two came on as scheduled. The heads still popped up and down for a few minutes as the station fully pressurized. We may still have a leak somewhere. But at least we know the pipe is no longer constricted by the oak tree and the pump should have less trouble getting water to the remaining heads. 

 I’ve never been afraid of getting my hands dirty. I ended up doing the vast majority of the digging. And I got to play with the SawzAll. Power tools make me nervous. I didn’t get to take Shop when I was in school.  Girls didn’t do that. Given the opportunity, I would have taken it in a heartbeat. I like to make things. I like to figure out how they work, though Edward is better at it than I am.  We make a good pair.  We each have our strengths. 

 As with any job, it’s all about having the right tools. In this case, it was the SawZall borrowed from work. It made quick work of the roots we needed to cut and gave us the room we needed to work.  I even gave the wood cutting blade to work when we were done, you know, for the next person to use. In the end, it made the surgery on the sprinkler system a whole lot less traumatic for all us us.  Be it the oak tree... or the humans. 

Dirty Snow

 It happens about the same time every year.  Pollen season.  It tends to hit right around our anniversary, that is the Spring Equinox. 

  It's the time of year when the oak trees, having joined the eternal quest for procreation and bloomed their woody little hearts out, begin to drop their flowers along with the last of the old leaves.  For about four weeks, the flowers will fall from the trees, hitting the ground with tiny puffs of yellow-brown pollen. The effect is much like watching a heavy, ungraceful snowfall.  A bane of all who are allergic to it.

  March breezes, in ever changing patterns, push and pile these flowers into drifts on the driveway, filling the cracks in the sidewalk and create mounds on the roadside where passing cars grind them into a fine power.  Our neighbors, in a vane attempt to keep up with depositional deluge, sweep their driveways weekly, and sometimes daily, to rid themselves of the unsightly clumps.  

  At least once a year, you'll find me out there as well.  Usually in the week between visits by the lawn guys, I'm out there myself with broom and blower in hand.  And a shovel.  Because believe it or not the best way to bag this stuff up is to shovel it into a trash can. The trick is not to get a face full in the process.

 Unlike its northern namesake, Florida's dirty snow puffs out clouds of allergens each time it's disturbed.  And it doesn't melt.  It isn't until we get a good hard, prolonged rainfall that the season begins to abate.  Some years that can be weeks after the blooms have fallen.  Without the rain the pollen is simply resuspended in the air with each passing front and windy day.  

  I can't say which is better and which is worse.  A heavy snowfall in New England will drive people inside where they can be comfortable and warm.  It's not so different down here, where people often end up retreating from the dirty snow that falls in the spring.  The difference is it's already warm outside down here, and the comfort they seek is not from chilly weather, but an attempt to get away from the wayward accumulations of this rite of spring.

Garments of the Gods

At sunrise, Boca Ciega Bay, FL

I have many times stood on a beach and watched the sunset. Or on the way to work, driven down the long, winding road at the park on Boca Ciega Bay, and stood on the sea wall to watch the sunrise.

These days, as I watch the sun settle below, or break above, the horizon, I look behind me as well. Sometimes the show there is just as fascinating as the one facing the sun.

The ancient Greeks called it the Belt of Venus. You can see it, in a clear sky, with the sun just below the horizon. In fact, it is the earth’s shadow and the atmosphere just above it. The Belt of Venus looks like a long, dark cloud stretching from the northern horizon to the southern horizon, topped by a band of pink. The dark is the shadow, the pink, the belt itself, is the atmosphere colored by the sun. It only lasts 10-15 minutes before it either sinks below the horizon as the sun rises, or looses clarity as it spreads across the whole sky at sunset.

The first few times I saw it, I didn’t recognize it for what it was. After I’d seen my first picture of it, I started looking for it. Now I see it all the time. Getting a picture of it is tough. You need a clear broad view of the horizon, a nearly clear sky, and perhaps a little post processing to bring out the color.

We go through so much of our day not noticing the world around us. I sometimes feel disconnected from nature and the world, wrapped in the technology of modern life. So at those times when I can stop, look around me and see the larger picture, I am grateful. I need that time to reconnect and feel part of the larger the world. For me, it is thrilling look into the sky, to see our own shadow, however briefly, and know what it is. To stand beneath a vast clear sky and see the Garments of the Gods.

At sunset, Banner Elk, NC

Of Tires and Nails…

   Most days we go about our business not worrying about our cars, or the tires they ride on.  So it’s a real surprise when you come out of work at the end of the day and find, as you are backing out, that you have a flat tire. I mean the damage-your-rim-if-you-drive-more-then-the-10-feet-to-get-back-into-your-parking-place kind flat tire.  

  My tire was fine that morning when I parked the car. I know this because I could tell as soon as I moved the car that afternoon there was a problem.  So I had to have picked up that nail close to work.  The tire had all day to deflate.  That tire had less then 6000 miles on it, it was practically new.  The nail didn’t even have the courtesy to stay in the tire, though the mechanic knew right where to patch the tire when he had it.

  At least it was only one nail, unlike the last time.

  Several years ago, Edward and I were headed out to run some errands one evening.  As we turned a corner onto Seminole Blvd, I found myself watching a car next to me that didn’t seem to be holding his lane.  That meant I didn’t see the broken bits of the 5-gallon bucket that was lying in the middle of my lane until it was almost too late.  OK, it was too late.  I missed the bucket but not the contents of said bucket.  

  Break hard, swerve, thump…  thump, thump, thump…  pull over.  Get out…  hisssssssss from the left rear tire.  

  Crap.  Must have picked up a nail.  With that much hiss it wasn’t going very much father.  So we got out the jack, and started working on changing the tire.  Edward was able to get the tire off and put on the spare.  Then we got a look at the problem.  

  Did I say nail?  No, it wasn’t “a" nail…  it was 5 nails. All of them within a spot the size of a quarter, literally.  

  To this day I have no idea how I managed not put put nail in any other tire, especially the one directly in front of the “nailed” tire.  All I can figure is that the first tire set the nails upright for the second tire, a cluster of 5 nails at that.  

  Needless to say, that tire couldn’t be patched.  Luckily, it wasn’t new.  

  To add insult to injury, my spare, which sits on the back gate of the Rav4 hadn’t been touched since it had been put back there several years earlier.  It was nearly flat itself.  So we had to limp to a gas station that had an air pump, which as luck would have it, was not the first place we stopped.  

  This time I had AAA on the way within 15 minutes of discovering the flat.  That was after I called Edward, “Hi… um, I’m going to be a little late...” While I waited, two wonderful colleagues helped me change the tire before AAA got there.  But I already knew my spare was going to be flat, so I made sure they sent a truck with air to fill spare.  Lesson learned the first time, right?  It wasn’t a wasted trip for the AAA truck expecting to have to change a tire to get there and find it done, especially since another colleague came out while we were working on my car to find her battery dead and in need of a jump.  The AAA did that for her after getting my spare up to pressure.  She didn’t have to wait for another service call and that was a good thing.

  We stuck flat tire on the back of the Rav and I dove it to my mechanic, a Shell station that’s on the way home.  I knew their staff had gone home for the day and that only the pump attendants would be there.  So I dropped off the tire for them to repair in the morning and headed home.  They called me the next day to say it was fixed.  It took them 5 minutes to put it back on and put the spare back in its place.

  Done. Simple. Painless.  Relatively speaking, and $26 later.

  Over the next few days I heard of two other people who had flats and were repairing tires.  Seemed there was a rash of them.  I’m sure there were more than I heard about that week. Someone, somewhere, must have dropped a load of nails in street.  I and the others were picking them up, so to speak.  So for those of you who didn’t get a nail your tire, you can thank us for cleaning up the streets, for taking one for the team. 

  You’re welcome. Glad to be of service.

Making it your own...

Over the last few years I’ve come to dread the Holiday season.  Starting sometime in mid-October, before Halloween, and continuing through Christmas and New Year’s Day, a veritable bevy of holidays parade through the weeks.  And with them, expectations that you will participate, purchase, spend, decorate, and generally be one-of-the-masses.  If not, what is wrong with you?  

We are constantly barraged with advertisements telling us what we should do, how we should act, where we should go and how we should feel. Long looks from neighbors and coworkers when you don’t wear the right colors. Expected attendance at Christmas parties. The inevitable holiday family movie, with everyone making up and getting along in the end. A fairytale of good times that everyone can enjoy.

But life doesn’t always follow those paths.  And when it doesn’t we are expected to feel bad that they don’t and we ourselves somehow bear that blame.  Is it any wonder that depression is highest during the holiday season?  I think perhaps it is not just due to the shorter days. 

I used to feel that way, that I was wrong in my budding dislike of the season.  That I should be happy this time of year.  That is, until several years ago, when I was told by someone I respected that there are no rules.  I can chose not to participate.  Or perhaps instead, take some part of that holiday season make it my own.

Sage advice.

I don’t consider myself a Christian anymore and haven’t for some time. So why was I celebrating Christmas?  Why am I stressing about something I no longer believe.  Why am I pandering to the pressures of a holiday that strikes me more as an opportunity for consumerism, than a celebration of spirituality.  

I can’t say that it was a simple or quick transition.  I clung to my past like a lifeline.  But times change and people change.  I changed, too.  I learned I could navigate that pool of holiday cheer. That I really did know how to swim and swim away from it.  That I don’t have to get in line and get with the program.  That there is a different drummer out there if you listen hard enough.

So starting with Samhain, I will try, as I do every year now, to walk my own path through the field of holiday land mines.  You won’t find me putting out pumpkins or hanging bed sheet ghosts from my myrtle tree. You won't see cardboard turkeys in faux Puritan hats in my windows.  My December decorations will be of more natural things like evergreen wreaths and centerpieces.  I love the smell of them and they get an honored place on the table, and by the front door.  The week before and after the Solstice, I will light an oil lamp each night for a few hours. And on the day of the Winter Solstice we will mix our batch of mead and open the one present we get for each other.  We will walk out into the park and watch the sun set over the lake.  Then, when we return to the house, we light the candles, eschewing any electric lights. Each a tiny bonfire of marking the longest night of the year, and welcoming the return of the sun, with one lone flame burning through the night until sunrise.

I still buy Christmas presents for family and friends.  I respect their tradition, just as I hope they will respect mine. And I will continue to say "Happy Holidays" as we approach the end of this year.  And to my friends and family I may even wish you a Merry Christmas, or Happy Hanukkah, or Ramadan, or Kwanzaa, or Omisoka.  I may even wish you a Merry Solstice if I know which way your wind blows, so to speak. But please don’t take offense if I wish you “Happy Holidays".  Christians aren’t the only ones celebrating a holiday this season. I don’t assume to know your tradition.  

Why must you insist I follow yours….?

Looking the other way...

Anti-Solar... looking west at dawn.

August...

Hot!

      Hot!

            Hot!

Clouds.

       More Clouds.

              Dark Clouds.

Raining. 

       Hard!

            Rainbow.

Sunny!

Humid! 

        Humid!

                Humid!

  

 August 

          in 

             Florida.