I think I mentioned the stream renovation project. Well, it’s done. Stan Wheatley, who graded the yard when I first bought the house and had the pool removed, did the work.
The island that has been building itself since 2007 is gone, the stream bed is lower, and the bank is steeper, to better contain high water on my side. Stan consulted with my neighbor Paul, who said he didn’t care if the water came up into his cow pasture.
Stan also found the drainpipe that leads from the basement floor drain, and hasn’t drained during the winter for years. Why not, you might ask. Because several high-water springs filled about a foot of the pipe with soil and mud, which froze in the winter and kept water from draining. We’ll see if a cleared-out pipe makes a difference next spring. I'll stick piece of rebar into the bank to show me where the pipe is, so I keep it clear.
Two buckthorns were excavated, hooray. They are trash trees, nothing but a cluster of suckers, they won't do for stovewood, and they have thorns. Sadly, the gorgeous swath of spring daffodils is buried under piles of rock, right about where the excavator is sitting. But new bulbs should arrive soon by mail, and in a couple of springs (with luck and bulb food) the swath will have returned.
In the last post I said the weather was mild in the daytime. Well, that was short lived. It never got higher than 58 today, and as I write this I've unearthed a warm nightgown and I've lit the woodstove. And it's not even October yet! But the house was so bone-chillingly clammy that I couldn't stand it. Ernie has buried himself in a foot-of-the-bed throw for over a week. Now he's back on his end of the sofa, by the stove, purring up a storm.
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