Verge Garden- Part 3: Inspiration

Once recent comment on the Verge Planting Strip Garden post, cited "There's no way in hell that'll work.  People will walk all over it and everything will die."

I now direct your attention to Greenwalks.

It's a whole blog dedicated to parking strip planting.

From Greenwalks Blog

I mean, look at that Helleborus.  Her pictures are total garden porn.

Invasivore in the City

Not long ago, I wrote a post on “Stink Bug Eradication Techniques” which to my surprise has been my most popular entry in The House Rules.  To summarize, Stink Bugs took over the Eastern Seaboard about 10 years ago as an invasive species from China with no local predators.  In my blog, I encouraged readers to do the most natural thing imaginable and find a way to reduce the stink bug population, not through pesticides or a rolled up newspaper, but by making them into dinner.  Pate, Tacos, whatever.

Recently, I stumbled across this article in Slate which regarded the invasive Red Lionfish in the Florida Keys as a similar, but delectable menace.  It’s almost too beautiful to eat despite the great recipes in Lionfish Cookbook:  The Caribbean’s New Delicacy.

 The Red Lionfish

But that was just the tip of the melting iceberg.  Wit a little interwebbing, I discovered that unbeknownst to me, my idea was trending, and now there’s a term for this big ol' group of crazypants:  Invasivores.

In the wake of my post, other bloggers must have caught the same idea, including The Compact , Dot Earth  and Take Part.  Okay, I have no way of knowing that they got the idea from me, but what is the internet for if not unmerited hubris?

So what’s an invasivore here in Philly supposed to tackle?  Well Canadian Geese and Starlings are among the top 10 most costly invasive species in the US.  Garlic Mustard and Zebra Mussels are rapidly overrunning Pennsylvania’s waterways and forest undergrowth.

But when I think of Philadelphia, the most irritating,  loathsome, and possibly yummy options that spring to mind include:

 The Northern Snakehead

The Rock Pigeon

and I would be remiss if I didn’t mention

The Feral Cat

I need to pull out my copy of the Scavenger’s Guide to Haute Cuisine.  I know he had a chapter on Squab (Baby Pigeons) but I can’t recall if there was anything on Feline Pot Pie.

Infused Vodka

We've been infusing our own vodkas over the winter with much success...

So far, the delectable winners have been:

Cranberry Thyme Vodka (Batch #3 shown in pink below)
Clementine Clove Vodka
Blueberry Lemongrass Vodka

But we don't like:

Blackberry Thyme Vodka (shown in dark purple below)

I'm about to break into the Grapefruit Fennel Vodka which is the yellow tinged one that I just finished, shown here.  I'll let you know what we come up with for mixology opportunities.

And I just started a batch of Watermelon Basil Vodka.

Really the sky is the limit on these concoctions.  Just throw a handful of fruits, nuts, spices, whatever in a clean glass jar, pour a liter of vodka over top and let it sit in a dark place for a month.  Strain and serve.

One word of caution, don't try to infuse in the pretty bottles.  Getting grapefruit rinds out of a narrow necked bottle is a frikkin pain.  I had to fill the bottle with oven cleaner and let it sit for two days before I made any headway.  But fortunately I was buzzed from drinking other infused vodkas most of that time, so the wait didn't seem that long.

Verge Garden- Part 2: Planning

The Planting Strip Verge shown in the picture below is actually the length of two lots, my own and my neighbor's.

Now, the whole plan came about after I got sick of constantly mowing both ends of the strip because my neighbor (who is living in Miss Edna's house FOR FREE) can't be bothered with home maintenance.  So my original intent was to use my leftover bricks to create a walking garden that would not require mowing.  In addition, the plant material between the bricks would have to be treadable since I can't expect everyone who parks here to carefully choose their footing before stepping out of the passenger seat.

To that end, I created the following plan, to use up my 120 bricks.

Now this plan, let's call her "Scheme- A" will use all 120 bricks, but will also require 27 6" plants and 42 3" plants.  That's no frickin joke in terms of budget.

But then I thought, "I'm a little disgruntled with the neighbor who won't mow/weed/shovel/paint etc."  So, if you look carefully, you'll notice that I modified the drawing & colored all the plants on her side of the property line blue.  That's because they represent Poison Ivy which is a lovely ornamental vine with waxy leaves and a trifoliate growth habit.  Coincidentally, I'm immune to some of the adverse effects I've heard it is rumored to have.

However, I could feel God teaching me a lesson in humility and forgiveness even as I contemplated planting poison ivy on her side.  He'd might take away my immunity the moment I started planting it.  Plus, where does one buy 6" pots of Poison Ivy?  I already checked Burpees.

So I came up with the alternate less ambitious, "Scheme- B" which is shown below.  This still has 120 bricks, in wider paths, but with only 13 6" pots and 20 3" pots.  Plus, less digging.

I guess I'm still undecided.  Do you have a preference?

Planting Strip Garden- Part 1: Introduction

Per my earlier post, I'm planning a garden in the grassy strip between my sidewalk and the street.

As I began to write this post, I realized that there was a problem.  What does one call the strip of earth/grass/mud/litter that many cities have between the sidewalk and the curb and street?  Well, I began by searching the Philadelphia Municipal Code, which is actually a great resource.

I've used it before to contest a ticket I received for double parking.  (By looking up the definition carefully, I discovered that I was in fact NOT double parking, but instead was blocking the Bus Stop.  But that's not what I was charged with, so the fuzz was S.O.L when I contested the ticket in court.  Anal Retentive Nerd: 1, Traffic Cop: 0)

Anyways, in Philadelphia, the aforementioned strip is defined in a subset of the code section on "sidewalks" and is called simply, "the planting strip."

But apparently the term varies from locale to locale:

From Alt-Usage-English.org:

This varies regionally.  Terms include "verge" (U.K.); "nature strip" (south Australia); "berm" (New Zealand); "parkway" and "planting strip" (western U.S.); "parking strip", "parking", "tree belt", "tree lawn", "lawn strip", "devil strip", "boulevard", and "terrace" (all eastern U.S.); "city strip" and "boulevard strip"(both Canada); and "long acre" (rural Ireland and elsewhere).  Most of these terms have other meanings also.

Personally, I prefer the term "devil strip". On the other hand, if I start calling it "the verge" I can always claim I'm from the U.K. when I'm questioned on my appropriation of the space in the future. People tend to be nicer to Englishmen in the U.S. Perhaps its the accent, or remnants of social guilt for absconding with "The Office", or perhaps its just sympathy for the bad teeth.

I'm going with Verge. 

DJ Self Criticism

I am currently preparing some music for a couple of party events in the near future.  In terms of being a DJ for these kind of things, my style leans toward the funk/pop/rock range, bordering on what many would consider "Wedding DJ" territory.  Of course, no Electric Slide, Funky Chicken, or Cha Cha Slide... even if those are requested by the bride herself, both DJ and the entire wedding party should be euthanized on the spot.

That said, no DJ is above their own personal biases, and those should be examined critically.  I realized as I was preparing the playlists, that many of my personal favorite dance songs include the "Party in the Background" production value.  Hoots and hollers, clapping, crowd noise, etc.  The big question is whether the "Party in the Background" is a symbol of a good dance song, a crutch that elevates a mediocre dance song, or something even more heinous, something I just like because I'm an easily manipulable extrovert and covers the fact that these songs actually suck.

Readers, I submit a few somewhat lesser known dance songs for your review.  Enlighten me to my bias or good taste as the case may be...







Also, I was recently given the DJ name, "Brother Hoops."  You can feel free to comment on that as well as I haven't decided whether to fully embrace it or not.

Floating Shelf

 I saw this picture on This Old House's The Hardware Aisle blog and was reminded of when my best friend and I did something similar in the bathroom of our tiny two room apartment in University City. 

It was perfect for storing all manner of bathroom and cleaning supplies.  But, of course, my anal nature required that in order for the shelf display to be aesthetically pleasing, I had to purchase enough rolls of toilet paper to fill the entire perimeter.  I basically made crown molding out of toilet paper.  I wish I had that picture to post.

Sanderson Wallpapers- Right in the Kisser

We were recently at my sister's house in DC where she had pulled out a bunch of wallpaper books to show to my wife.  Rach and I have often discussed wallpaper for a few rooms of our house, especially those where:

1.  We've already painted the space three times and can't find a color we both like.

2.  We've already painted but I put a hole in the wall and now we have one of her sister's paintings covering the catastrophe.

3.  We've already painted but staring at a monotone wall color from 18 inches away whilst sitting on the throne is boring.


4.  We've already painted ourselves into a corner by deciding we we can't bother to strip all the wallpaper off a space before refinishing.  (See what I did there?)

Anyways, my sister's books were of the old-school wallpaper variety: fleur de lis, brocade, watercolor-y ivy vines, etc.  Whilst that is all well and good, I figure if you're going to embrace the wallpaper, you best go big or go home.  That's why I think Sanderson wallpapers, hailing from the UK, are so awesome.  Check out these pics from their 50s collection. 

 

Makes me want to smoke a cig, swill a martini, and yell "One of these days... One of these days...  POW! Right in the kisser!"

They also have some more conservative but still cool stuff appropriate for the DC Beltway set, should you be a reader from those distant reaches.  Or my sister.

Kretchma Cocktail

When, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands stresses which have connected bugged the frick out of  them with another , and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the laws of nature and of nature's God entitle them that the Mac & Cheese intended for dinner is taking forever to cook from a frozen state, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare drink away the causes which impel them to the separation irritation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men cocktails are NOT created equal, but that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights flavors, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness a pleasant balance of tart, sweet, cream, and bitter.

 Thusly, we give you the Kretchma Cocktail... again, portioned for two...

Kretchma Cocktail
2 lemon Twists
3 oz Vodka
3 oz White Creme de Cacao
1 1/2 oz fresh Lemon Juice
3/4 teaspoon Grenadine

Rim two chilled cocktail glasses with the lemon twists.  Combine the Vodka, Creme de Cacao, Lemon Juice and Grenadine in a cocktail shaker with crushed ice.  Shake it like a Polaroid picture.  Strain into glasses and top with the lemon twists.

Its kind of like birthday cake but knocks you on your ass.

Throwing the Baby Out

The Sheffield sink we previously discussed was a success.  My clients liked it thoroughly, and are even excited about the potential of washing heretofore non-existent Grandchildren in it.  (I think the world can largely be divided into two groups of people, those who find this practice acceptable (aka Normal People) and those who find the practice abhorrent (aka Whineoceroses).

Unfortunately, as we begin to look at the kitchen cabinet layout in more detail, it just isn't going to fit in this kitchen space we have to work with.  Add to that the fact that the sink company's website has apparently ceased to function, and I'm in a proverbial pickle.

So the choices are to demolish a concrete block wall of possible load bearing function to make the kitchen bigger (not likely) OR to find a similar but smaller sink.  Grak, what's a baby washing grandma to do?

Were you washed in a sink as a baby?  Would you rather pay a hell of a lot of money to tear down a concrete block wall or have the option to wash your baby in the kitchen sink?  If you wash your baby in the kitchen sink while also soaking some corn on the cob to throw on the grill, is it child abuse or ecologically friendly thinking?

Getting your Soil Tested

I'm working on getting a community garden started in the Francisville section of Philadelphia at the Berean Institute where my church meets.  The lot is currently covered with grass and I thought that it would be a good idea to get the soil tested so we can supplement it with whatever urea, peat, or bonemeal it needs.

So I collected samples from the Institute lawn and then figured I'd grab a few bits from my own yard as well. Our back yard has had a tough time growing grass, and the front flower garden has performed adequately, but I'd love to know how to rectify the damage I've done with saltwater runoff from the sidewalk and steps during winter de-icing.

I took them to Primex Garden Center in Glenside which is a fantastic, if a little pricey, nursery.  I've gone there with branches of trees before to have them identified, gotten rare perennials from their greenhouses, and had great conversations with the knowledgeable staff.  I will always prefer them to the Home Despot for all things green thumbish.  Primex can test for pH on site within minutes for free which is a great first step.  But I thought a more thorough investigation might be warranted for the community garden plot.  Available for $10, they'll provide you with a mail-order kit to send your soil samples to Penn State's Agricultural Analytical Services Labratory.   You may mentally connect this to the urban legend of the cow with a window in her stomach.  Jessie the cow DID exist with a plastic viewing window into her punctured flank.  Alas, despite rumors to the contrary, one cannot go visit Jessie the Ruminant today.  She died in 1930.  Plus, by even setting foot in State College, PA, today, one immediately becomes too intoxicated to be allowed near farm animals.

Anyways, the process is very straightforward.  You need about a cup of soil.  They have more complex instructions for taking the soil in plugs from 15 locations, mixing them together, and getting a composite sample from a larger area.  But its not like I'm trying to grow award winning rutabagas.  I just want to make sure there's not a deadly amount of Francium or something.  So, one spade-ful will have to do.  However, the instructions do require one to dry out the soil, so that the test covers what's actually in the soil and not the water.  (Which seems kind of odd to me, since I would want to know if the water in the soil has Francium, but whatever, what doesn't kill us only makes us glow in the dark.) 

So I'm drying soil in paper covered trays in the sunniest windowsills in the house.  Admittedly, it looks a little funny, but as long as it finishes drying out before Queen Elizabeth comes over for tea and strumpets, we should be fine.

Open House- 3458 Midvale Ave

We often are underwhelmed when we decide to take a tour of the Sunday open houses, but this last one inspired a new repetitive section of the blog... The pictures are easily available and public,... and if we're lucky, someone we know will buy this house.

3458 Midvale Ave is in the East Falls Neighborhood of Philly.  This house is only about 3 blocks from the Schuylkill River and the commercial strip of East Falls.  Which, btw, includes the restaurant Fork & Barrel.  On a side note, its a good place, but we do wish they could get their hot dogs in order.

Anyways, the front yard has southern exposure, with a terraced step up to the front door.  The arched front door with stained glass is the first indicator that things inside are going to be good.

 

The interiors are well appointed.  While the transparent finish oak trim isn't my favorite, it works with the house.  The house has multiple level changes from front to back.  The opening from the living to the dining is particularly nice.  Its a 12 foot wide arched opening with two steps up.  Its sets the open plan off to just the right degree.

But the best part of this whole house is in the basement.  Coming down from the kitchen, one arrives at the bar...  Its a small setup, but the perfect size for a house of this size.  I could really see myself setting up shop there.

And when I finally pass out from overconsumption, the bar area conveniently has a queen Murphy bed tucked away in a millwork door.  (There's also a bathroom in the door to the left for the 2 AM wake up call.)

A Good Dry Lay

During the fall, we dug up the existing brick patio at our house in order to level it with the adjacent concrete walkway and create more space in the garden bed at the top of the stairs. 

The resultant patio, while not huge, will be a nice place to yell at the SEPTA buses as they careen past our house with no regard for human life.   We're looking forward to trying it out soon.

We rebuilt the patio on a base of compacted top soil, 2 inches of gravel, 2 inches of paver base, and 1 inch of sand.  If you're interested in the process, this article from This Old House covers the basics.  The process of carting all that home in our Hyundai Elantra named Brewster is probably what put the poor fella into an early grave.  RIP.

We used the dry lay method, which trust me, is much more pleasant than it sounds...  I would add one thing to the article... per my cousin's suggestion, we added 1 part dry portland cement to every 3 parts of sand for both the base layer of sand and the final sweep layer into the cracks of the pavers.  After a few winter snows/rains/thaws, the moisture slowly seeped into the sand and really locked everything into place.  Its not as tight as a mortar bed would have been, but wowzer, is it a lot less work.

Surprisingly, even with all the upheaval of brick and sitting in a pile in the sun for a month or two, the moss appears to have survived the winter on the bricks and should splotchily cover the patio soon.  At which point we can invite the local hobbits over for elevensies.

As a result of reducing the overall size, we now have about 120 bricks left.  I tried to pawn them off donate them to my good friend Jim for his brick patio project, but apparently he didn't want to cart this insignificant amount down to North Philly.  Anyways, now we have to come up with something to do with them.

My plan is to reduce the amount of "mowing" that I do with our manual spinny wheel mower thing that has the dullest blades known to mankind.  I seriously think I could cut the grass faster with my hammer.  The only strip of grass out front is between the sidewalk and the road.  I think I'll lay a series of brick "paths" across the short distance and then infill the remaining green areas with a walkable garden.  More on that project later...

Siiiiidecars

The perfect Sidecar recipe...  Portioned for two because one should never drink Sidecars alone:

Sidecar:
Lemon Wedge
Superfine Sugar
4 1/2 oz brandy
4 1/2 oz triple sec
1 1/2 oz fresh lemon juice.

Rim a cocktail glass with lemon wedge and spin in plated sugar.  Use a citrus stripper to pull two lemon twists from the wedge before discarding.  Place twists in two glasses and chill in the freezer.

In a cocktail shaker, half filled with crushed ice, combine lemon juice, triple sec, and brandy.  Shake heartily.  Strain into chilled glasses and enjoy.

Have several tonight and by tomorrow you'll be ready to kamikaze outta your job and declare, "I never have to put on those silly shirts for as long as this warlock exists in the terrestrial dimension."

It takes a 1500...

I started reading this article from Slate about the whiny fastidiousness of NPR listeners, or more accurately the whiny fastidiousness of NPR listeners who write into the station.  I followed one of the links to this 10 minute NPR interview with Ke$ha.

 The most important fact that I can convey from this morning's research is that Ke$ha got a 1500 on her SATs.

1500* 

I would incredulously act shocked that this is a hair better than my SAT scores, which I don't tout because I think it makes me smart, I'm just a ridiculously good test taker.  I actually think there are brilliant people out there who scored much much lower, but they're just not good standardized testers.  But if I was to incredulously state such a thing, it would put me in the same camp as these snooty NPR letter campaign writers, who put themselves far above the gutter workings of shiny pop culturedom.

What I find so funny about this is how easily we look at "art" and transcribe the critique of the piece onto the artist themselves.  Which is not to say that Ke$ha is or isn't an "artist", or that her "work"  is worthy of critical merit or isn't.  You can debate that fact over a Pinot Grigio and free range cheese plate at your local oenephile watering hole, but I'm not getting into that here.   Its just that people look at the pop product produced by a Jay-Z, or a Alan Ball, or a Joss Whedon, or a Lady Gaga,  and place value and worth on the person's humanity.  What makes "Dirt off your Shoulder", "True Blood", "Dollhouse", or "Born This Way" fitting indicators of these people's genius?  They're pop artifacts as well, but of a different subject.  Yet, these folks are esteemed for their creative and empire management prowess.  But create a piece that is dedicated to the art of funjoy and influencing others to surrender themselves to it, (which I believe is actually a complicated emotion/action to orchestrate), and the masses cry out "to avoid this sort of stupidity". 

"The party don't start til I walk in."  Indubitably, Ms. Sebert, Indubitably.

*That's in the 99 percentile.  She did not state what she got on the Math vs the Verbal.  My guess is that she's probably pretty equally left and right brained and scored similarly on both halves.   Of course, all of this is dating me tremendously as the SAT has been three sections and based on a 2400 max possible score since 2006.  But I guess its dating Ke$ha** as well. 


**Hmm.  Dating Ke$ha would be odd.  Fortunately, I don't have a beard.

Uffa!- Long Johns

Dang.  Never should have tempted fate by writing that last post.  Pretty much as I was writing about it being so frikkin warm, the air began its combative descent into the 20's. 

Ugh.  Back to wearing Long Johns.

You got me Sprung... With Photo Evidence

Well, March is upon us, and it is surprisingly warm here in Philly.  We've been getting some pretty consistently nice days, and the thoughts of every urban gardener are turning to root division, compost, aeration, and if they're at all in the know, Russell Wholesale Gardens.   That's right, spring has sprung.

But until I get a day to travel up to that Nursery of Delights, take some photos, have a Horticultural experience,  (If reading this aloud, make sure to really drag out the "H" sound in "Horticultural" and you'll get my drift.), and post a blog about it, we'll just have to content ourselves with some photos of the emerging plant life.  The garden doesn't look like much from afar, heck even 3 feet away...


But get a little closer...




Even a little closer...




Even a little closer...





And you'll see ERUPTIONS OF VIRILE FERVOR...

Helleborus

Sedum

Bloody Sorrell

Garlic Chives

Tulip

Primrose

Columbine

Bearded Iris

 Mostly I just wanted to show off our new camera... finally I can take some decent macro shots.  Damn.  Where's my wife?

Swirlys, Wet Willies, Pink Bellies, Zerberts, Combos, and Wedgies

Friday Night...

Our pastor, Geoff Bradford, and his family are regrettably leaving to lead some group of jerks at a stupid church in the backwater nowhere of Raleigh, NC.  I'm not still bitter and Praise the Lord, blah, blah, blah.  

Anyways, his 6 boys have been a real joy over the past 9 years, so I wanted to throw them a special event to celebrate.  I told them that we would have a massive sleepover, wrestlefest, Philly junkfood tour, video game extravaganza with all the guys from our church they wanted.  They made a list and excitedly discussed it every night at dinner.  Clay, who is 6 or 7 I think, was apparantly discussing this with his Dad, and started calling it "Man Night".  His Dad said, "But, you're not a man...?".  Clay responded "So, there'll be men!".  His Dad followed up with, "Well, what are you going to wear to Man Night?"  Immediately, Clay declared, "Well, I'm not wearing a shirt!"

Anyways, here's the poster:

Courtesy- David Speers Promotional Events

Highlights:

Garrison-  The pinkest belly ever;  His shared desire for a ginormous Squid tattoo; Farting;
Sam- Settlers of Catan Smack Talk; Gangsta Rap; Winning in Manliness Points;
Henry- Him getting a Swirly; Him getting a Polish Wedgie; Him clutching a Teddy Bear?;
Clay- Ruffio; Leaving him to Wander the streets of Fishtown alone; South Street Challenge (sorta);
Ezra- Witnessing what I can only assume was his first Wedgie;  The trauma it seemed to induce;
Asher-  Motorcycle Helmets; Vacant Baby Stares; General Cuteness;