HAY HAY WE’RE THE FRATBOYS
Next to the zip-tie, Craigslist is a gardener’s best friend. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, skip this and go to Smith&Hawken.com. If you know exactly what I’m talking about, tell me which keywords you type in when on the hunt for stuff. Quick! Don’t over-think this! Personally, I read FREE, MATERIALS and FARM & GARDEN on Craigslist. Then I search for “plant” “rock” “mulch” “clawfoot bathtub” and “vegetable.” In this manner I have wasted many hours driving all over hell and gone buying cheap daylillies, a pot that looks like a two-faced lion and a 350-gallon plastic vat that once held Kool-AId concentrate, but also loading my Honda Fit with random free rocks. I don’t have enough rocks. I need more rocks. They don’t call it the Fit for nothing. Those rocks are heavy. Sometimes I need to make 2 or 3 trips. Who cares.
Last week, I was thrilled to spot 80 bales of hay on the FREE page. Hay, even when baled, is lighter than rock, and I needed serious mulch. I sped to the scene of the free hay give-away, which turned out to be a fraternity on the UT campus. Its imposing brick presence was encircled by a wrought iron fence, every gate of which was locked. But frat boyswere drinking on the roof, as you would expect. I yelled up at them and one came down and took me around to the service entrance where the last 5 bales were stored in an F-150 pickup. I had a lot of questions: where did the other 75 bales go? What Johnny-on-the-spot rancher beat me to the punch? Why does a frat obtain 80 bales of hay only to give them away? Was this some kind of agricultural philanthropy PR scheme undertaken to take people’s minds off hazing through binge-drinking? But Preston, or whatever the boy’s name was, had Lone Stars to attend to.
I stuffed in the first two bales behind my daughter Gus, who has seasonal allergies. Then I crammed every available leftover space with loose hay, until my rearview mirror showed nothing but a barnyard scene. On the way home, Gus stopped sneezing long enough to ask what a fraternity was. As usual, I launched into an interesting lecture. Again, I didn’t know what I was talking about, but she was receptive. “The Greek system?” she asked. “Do they speak Greek?” I threw in some details about Greek yogurt and began fantasizing about Greeking yogurt in my home kitchen. Before dinner, I unloaded all the hay onto my heat-stressed vegetable garden soil. It’s gorgeous. I feel great. I wish the interior of my car weren’t black velour, but I consider it a day well spent.
May 28th, 2009 at 10:44 am
robin. you crack me up…
May 28th, 2009 at 3:15 pm
I enjoyed that piece Robin, but gardening in Indian Hills is not very rewarding. Late heavy snow combined with dried out ponderosas to break many trees in Indian Hills.
Just today we wrapped up the CA writing course you helped with. I shamelessly used several of your writing ideas with my class to good effect.
Greek yogurt is also a fav of mine. – Charles
June 5th, 2009 at 8:38 pm
If you want free rocks, go to the cemetery. You know, that one off the MoPac just south of 2222. Gravediggers have plenty of rocks to spare.
June 8th, 2009 at 3:13 pm
I’m an avid craigslist checker, too. It’s how I got rocks and plants for my yard last fall, launching me into a whole new world of gardening and blogging.
June 8th, 2009 at 3:32 pm
Do you really mean it? Gravediggers with rocks to spare? Do you have to wait for someone to die? This is too hard–to find this out while I’m writing in a library just to escape from such temptations! I got five free rose bushes yesterday and they will die if I don’t get home and plant them quick. Craigslist is the devil and xanthan gardens is a terrible temptation. If you haven’t seen Melissa’s database, you should.