Archives for posts with tag: houses

Just when you think you’ve had everything dealt to you and just when you think you’ve dealt with it all; just when you think there couldn’t possibly be another plant disease or chomping insect or marauding animal that you haven’t seen; just when you think that maybe, just maybe, you’ve got a few things figured out and maybe, just maybe, you have everything under control; well, that’s when Mother Nature serves you up something new and unexpected.

I’m exaggerating a bit, of course, and we have had a successful and relatively uneventful year in the garden.  But after morning inspection and a nice swim, I looked over to the east planter and saw a pile of what looked like sawdust at one corner, clear evidence of carpenter ants.  These guys aren’t after our vegetables or even the leaves or soil.  No, it is the planter itself that they are eating.  Well, strictly speaking they don’t eat the wood but they do tunnel through it.  If left unchecked, the ants’ nesting will weaken the boards, accelerate their natural decay and eventually lead to their crumbling (structural engineers these ants are not).

When carpenter ants appear around the house, I sprinkle a few teaspoons of poison in their path which, if I am lucky, they take back to the nest and share with their siblings.  With further luck (and so far, so good), the colony dies.  This is one of the few occasions where I will resort to nasty chemicals—potentially, the integrity of the house depends on it.  I have never needed much nor needed it very often and our accumulated exposure has been relatively low.

Unfortunately, I can’t use any poison in the planter.  Granted, the carpenter ant infestation appears to be well below the vegetables (at the bottom of the planter) but it is very possible that the plants’ roots have extended that deeply.  Even if not, I do not want any dangerous chemicals that close to our food.  After all, I chose to use untreated lumber to build the planters; using a chemical pesticide would not be consistent with that philosophy.

So, what to do?  It’s not like I can ask them to leave.

On the other hand, maybe I can give them a reason to leave.

I brought the hose over to the nest’s entrance and set the sprayer to “jet”.  Then I placed the nozzle directly against the side of the planter—point blank range—and turned the water on full.  Any tunnels, caverns or shafts that the ants had created should have been instantly flooded, and possibly collapsed.  At least, I certainly hope so.

Problem solved?  We shall see.

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As discussed before (see, for example, June 10, 2012, part 2), the trees around our house and garden are constantly growing and because they are so closely spaced, they are growing not outwards but upwards.  The result?  Their canopy is getting higher and denser and we are falling ever more deeply into the shade.

Last year, I observed that the solar panels on the roof (with which we heat the swimming pool) do not get any direct sunlight until sometime between 10:00 and 11:00 in the morning and move back into the shade starting as early as 2:00 pm; by 4:00 pm, the upper panels are completed shielded by trees.  This greatly diminishes their effectiveness at heating the pool water.

The planters have a longer solar day (see June 20, 2012) but even in the garden, shade begins to have an impact as early as 4:00 pm as the shadows start to creep across the west planter.  The area to the west of the planters, where we plan to grow squash this year, is fully shaded by 3:00 pm.  This may not be enough sunshine for a vegetable as needy as zucchini.

There’s not much we can do about increasing the morning sun—all of the trees to the east of us are on a neighbor’s property—but we do control the woods to the west.  In particular, there are two tall maples just outside the pool fence that are casting most of the afternoon shadows.  They will have to go.  We are fortunate that the ground slopes down steeply just beyond our pool and many of the trees that might otherwise be a problem need not be considered.

Widening the exposure of the solar panels, on the other hand, will require more drastic action.  The main culprits in their obstruction are the old oak tree that hangs over the west side of our house and a huge maple about twenty feet beyond it to the west.  Each is very tall and has already lost its lower branches.  And because they are on the edge of the woods, the two trees have reached outwards with their upper limbs, unlike their more constrained siblings located further into the woods.

Both of these trees have caused us trouble in the past:  We had the maple cabled many years ago to restrain a splitting trunk; the oak tree most recently dropped two large branches on the house and patio after a snowstorm a year and a half ago (see October 30, 2011, part 2).  So far, we have limited our approach to pruning but at this point, any pruning we might do would leave only barren (and funky-looking) trunks.

No, if we do anything they must also be removed.  But doing so will leave a noticeable void behind.  I’ve been resisting it for years because I know I will feel their loss.  A ranger at Yellowstone National Park once asked us (while we were gathered around a campfire) whether we had ever had an experience with rocks.  It took me a few years to grasp what she was getting at—the idea that the natural environment has a presence, an identity—and even if I have not had any experiences with trees, per se, I definitely feel their presence.  Losing these two will be a sad event.

And it will be a big project.  We brought in our long-time tree man, Jerry, to take a look at all of the trees we are planning to take down.  He’s done a lot of work here (see, for example, October 31, 2011) but this would be larger than any other takedown he has done for us.  The two maples at the end of the pool will simply be cut and allowed to fall down the hill (much more difficult and dangerous than it sounds) while the larger maple and oak will have to be carefully broken down, branch by branch and section by section.  Removing the wood once the trees are down will be a major undertaking all by itself.

It will be a great sacrifice but I think it will be for the greater good (of the house, garden and environment).