Imagine a dog with more intelligence and curiosity than sense and you have our chow chow, known to Facebook friends as Roofdog due to his exploration of a neighbor's rooftop. We are lucky he doesn't have thumbs; his fascination with locks coupled with his escape artist abilities would make him a danger to refrigerators everywhere. << MORE >>

"Awww, lookit the bunnies."  Boy, do I regret those words!

Two weeks after I planted my bare root peach tree, nibble marks about four inches above ground level almost completely girdled the tree.  Because tree growth occurs between the bark and the wood of the trunk, removing the bark all around is almost always a death sentence for the tree.  And the culprit? Attila the Rabbit!  And I'm not the only victim: an aquaintance of ours planted petunias not long ago; they didn't last a whole day before being devoured by ravaging "bunnies." 

Conclusion?  The country is no place for undefended plants.  Solution?  Research and experimentation.

After a quick trip to our local Ace Hardware, I painted the tree trunk with a black tarry patching compound. Breaches in a small tree's bark cause dehydration and draw pests.  We knew a woman who chained a dog to a citrus tree; within a week, the links scratched thru the bark, damaging the tree beyond salvage. 

If you want to garden in the country, check out herbs that repel rodents (rabbits, rats, javelinas?)   A great starting place for this information is the Sunset Garden Book.  Some suggestions  include garlic, peppermint and society garlic (not a garlic).  A combination of chives, peppermint and society garlic appears to be protecting my small garden.  Or maybe Peter Rabbit doesn't like fennel...

When you plant fruit trees, consider surrounding them with a twelve inch to eighteen  inch tall  tube constructed from hardware cloth (a type of thick screen) and wire.  Each tube will require between three to four feet of hardware cloth.  This allows you to build the tube and slip it over the tree.

Above - crowbar(l) and pry bar (r)

Imagine a floor covered with curling linoleum squares on moldy chipboard over over curling linoleum squares.  This was my first demolition project in the hacienda. 

I have no idea why one of the owners nailed a layer of chipboard over the original tile and added another layer of tile rather than simply removing the tile and retiling; the underlying concrete floor was level.  (However, they must have liked the result; the kitchen got the same treatment.)  Then during over a  decade of neglect, a roof leak flooded the room repeatedly, leaving a smelly, ugly mess.

After sweeping out the detached tiles, I set to work with  a pry bar and a claw hammer.     Once the top layer of tile was gone, I started on deteriorating chipboard,  This time the claw hammer was insufficient for the task - nails plus concrete require leverage.  I pulled the pry bar out.of the tool kit to discover a need for more leverage.  A crow bar joined us on our next trip from Phoenix.  Success was mixed.  Some nails came out, usually leaving divots; others just lost their heads.  By experimenting, I learned to clobber the remains with a  hand sledge.  Best results came from beating them until they bent and slipping the pry bar under the bend to pop off a section of nail. 

The uncovered concrete wasn't a pretty floor, but it functions well for a temporary storage area. 

Lessons learned:
    Linoleum doesn't burn well.  Bag it and send it to the landfill.
    Chipboard doesn't hold up to repeated flooding.
    Don't leave home without your crowbar.

I just discovered an unexpected beauty in gouged and splintered plywood coated with black mastic.  Of course, I spent the last two weeks scraping up layers ancient tile overayment.  This must be what people mean when they say "Savor the moment."  I'd rather sit on the patio at sunset and watch the vultures circling down to roost.

Advice from someone who learned the hard way: when digging into a project house, talk to someone who can evaluate what needs to be done.  Mandatory house inspections point out obvious problems like wires drooped across a roof, but provide no details on how problems should be fixed.  With an investment as expensive as a house, it pays to hire expertise.  Not wanting to repeat past mistakes,  not long after purchasing our hacienda, I called up friend and long-time neighbor  Bob Graham,  Principal Architect of Motley Design Group, a firm specializing in historic preservation planning in the Southwest.

So one day, early in December, we had our second and third visitors - Bob and his wife, Roberta.  Vistor Number One was the local Fire Marshall, but we don't need to discuss that...

Bob's first recommendation (belatedly)  was to avoid buying a contractor's personal home.  As is borne out by our house, nothing will match because the houses are  built of leftovers from other projects.  Our windows don't match, the bath tub (above, being examined by Bob) is a hodge-podge of different colors of tile and the walls are a mix of poured concrete, concrete block and adobe. On the positive side, the builder took his time with the  kitchen cabinets; details almost hidden under layers of paint hint at a rustic style reminiscent of Charles Loomis.  The door in the picture is constucted of one by fours bolted together and hung with hand-made hammered brass hinges.  If you've priced custom metalwork, you know treasures like these cost more than new cars.

Bob's evaluation of the roof matched Mick's - too flat.  Water doesn't drain; it puddles.  His suggestion?  A high density foam roof to add pitch and some  insulation.  Note: fifty years ago, insulation wasn't considered important; adding it can be a challenge. 

A couple of two by fours propping up floor joists in the basement concerned the inspector.  Bob and Mick agreed that they served no useful purpose.  It appeared that someone stuck them in to firm up the  living room, not realizing that wooden floors inherently have some bounce.  (The rest of the house has concrete floors.)

Bob caught a problem in my plan to demolish the fireplace that ate the kitchen; one of the brick pillars supports a ceiling joist.  His solution?  Leave the pillar or replace the ceiling joist with a longer one and build a support a couple of feet away. 

We learned that adobe needs to breathe.  Unfortunately during the early part of the century, many builders used Portland cement for stucco. The two materials expand at different rates, causing cracks in the cement, which allow water in.  Trapped by the concrete, the water slowly transforms adobe into mud.  The ideal solution is to remove the concrete and replaster with  lime or mud plaster.    Bob suggested the less drastic solution of caulking cracks to seal the walls. 

While Mick and Bob moved on to  the leaning electric mast (needs a stay), Roberta and I discussed patching a water-damaged wall in the kitchen.  Then it was time for everyone to adjourn for lunch at Joe's Diner.

Because we have lived with an old house  for many years, we were looking for insights into the hacienda rather than renovation plans or a detailed project plan.  Bob provided exactly what we wanted and I thank him for that!

From tiny sprouts, great orchards grow - we hope.   After digging eight huge pits in the rock rubble that  passes for soil on our property (not counting the smaller holes for some refurbished chrysanthemums), those little trees better grow!  Between snowstorms and sore backs, it took weeks to get them planted!  It appears that getting older means everything moves slower except the clock.

If you are looking to plant a few fruit trees on your own microfarm, you might want to consider the following:

One of the blessings of colder climates is the variety of fruit trees you can grow; a multitude of apple, cherry, peach, walnut and other trees thrive in the Arizona mountains.   Conversely, the benefit of warmer climates is the variety of fruit trees you can grow - citrus, avocado, date palms, guava and others.  Research what grows well in your area before that foray to the Home Depot garden shop.  Best bets for good information about the western US are the local County Extension Service and the Sunset Garden Book.

If you want a variety of fruits, your best bets are self-pollinating varieties.  Only one tree is necessary for production, although having two will increase yields.  If you really love apples (or pears or cherries), having  multiple varieties is possible if you take time to identify bloom time (early, middle or late.)  Pair varieties that bloom during the same period.

Planting heirloom varieties is an option you might want to explore.  Far more varieties of apples, cherries, etc exist than you ever find in Walmart or even Whole Foods.  Check out Trees of Antiquity for more information.  Their website is a treasure trove of info.  However, if you're looking for citrus, this option is much more limited.  Most citrus is grafted and old varieties are not wanted by most nurseries or seed banks.  (We had an ancient grapefruit once...) 

Dig a hole, mix soil and amendments, stick in a tree or bare-root twiglet, water, fertilze and wait three to five years.  Then enjoy blooms, shade and fruit.

Mick claims weeds are just flowers that popped up in the wrong place.  If he's right, I spent two hours and used three gallons of Round-up killing flowers yesterday.  Today I journeyed to the local Wally World to replenish my weapons supply.  An acre of neglected ground can generate an enormous volume of... flowers.  And most of them bristle with thorns and burrs when they mature.  It makes me long for the innocuous weeds of Phoenix.

Note:  Round-up resistant "flowers" have developed.  Lately I find it necessary to spray a couple of times, just to ensure a successful mass extermination.

We all grew up with the idea of the city mouse and his country cousin.  Disney even based portions of an animated movie on the contrast.  (Hint: think Ratatouille.)  However, we always apply the concept to ourselves, not realizing that our best friends, too, have some adjusting when they move from one environment to the other. We learned through experience that moving from the city to rural areas can pose interesting challenges to the furred members of the family.

Moving our  housecat  resulted in no more trauma than happens with any change to his day to day routine.  In other words, he left his complaints where we could step on them, but anyone who has cats knows that this kind of behavior his normal.  Cats are creatures of habit; changing their food can drive them psycho.  The only real change we noticed occured after Cat encountered the scorpion.  The sequence went roughly:
    1.  Oh my, a new toy!
    2.  Oh my, a tasty new snack!
    3.   You kids can go to bed.  I'm going to check whether any more tasty snacks are wandering around the house.

Luckily, Cat lives indoors.  Coyotes haunt our neck of the high desert.  If he spent nights outside, like many city cats, he would either be quick or dead. 

The dogs, on the other hand, encountered new smells and new animals - coyotes, horses, burros,  emus... 
Even when they were locked in the dog run, the wind would bring enticing scents to arouse them.

One dog is an experienced traveler  and possesses social graces.  She touched noses with the burros, barked at the coyotes and generally enjoyed the new environment.  Not so for her adoptive sibling.  Young Dog immediately used his puzzle working talents to become an escape artist.  If there was a weakness in our security, he found it.   The problems with this were manifold: 
    1.    Young Dog has no fear of automobiles.
    2.    Young Dog's curiosity led him into situations he cannot get out of - like the neighbor's rooftop.
    3.   Despite our attempts to train him,  Young Dog's social skills are on a par with that relative everyone wants to lock in a closet.  In other words, socially, he's drooling idiot.  Lunging at another animal is interpreted by creatures ranging from horses to dogs as an attack and situations deteriorate from there.  In reality, Young Dog is like the Johnny Cash character who screams his introduction "HI.  MY NAME IS SUE.  HOW DO YOU DO?"    In other words, Young Dog was an embarassment to all of us, including his adoptive sister.  (Even dogs can have crazy relatives.)   This posed a further problem in this rural area where too many dogs run loose and even form packs; Young Dog's social ineptitude could put me in the middle of a
major dog fight.

The solution?   Of course we tightened up security, but Young Dog showed us we needed more; he and I needed a profession intervention, aka training. Things are changing,  Now when I order Young Dog to ignore that barking dog nearby, people with other dogs turn and flee.  (Before, they simply told me I was cruel not to let Young Dog play with their Fluffy.)  Young Dog and I have grown closer and he no longer paces the kennel looking for a way to escape.  Has he acclimated to the country and solved our problems?  No.  Young Dog still needs to improve his meeting and greeting.  But things go forward.

When you’re buried under an enormous project, problems are everywhere.  Incremental becomes invisible because it becomes part of the scenery.  I’ve never had a project where these were more true than our new house.  Fixing a faucet can take three trips to the local Ace Hardware, plus at least as many quarter-mile walks out to the road to shut off the water.  Working on the steel casement windows is even more difficult; it seems no two of them are broken in the same way.  And taking photos to share our progress?  Half the time, the battery is dead and another third of the time, I manage to punch the wrong button and erase the images. 
Yep, with this project, it’s easy to focus on what went wrong.

But over the last couple of weeks, nature has forced me to literally see the flowers among the weeds.  Flowerbeds that were overgrown with prickly “stuff” last fall have begun to sprout daffodils, tulips, and hyacinths.  Look for the good things happening in your life; it beats dwelling on what is wrong.

Strolling through downtown Tempe at sunset is a raucous assault on the senses; the long-tailed grackles are gathering to roost and poop.  Up here, we have a different kind of bird gathering:


The turkey vultures are back!   There's nothing quite like walking outside and having twenty or more of these magnificent creatures soaring overhead.  The photo is the local flock settled into the tops of a pair of  forty-foot tall sycamores.