Inner City Farmer

Here’s an example of how I am getting smarter in my old age. A year ago I was happy to drive across town and haul scavenged materials back to the homestead. One back injury later I have figured out that it’s better to allow others to do the heavy lifting.

Some of my ultimate goals for the farm are helping my fruit trees get big enough to actually bear fruit, turn my clay into usable soil, and controlling and trapping the flow of rainwater that hits my property, and to do all that I need lots and lots of mulch. While you can get it at the landfill for free, I recently discovered another way of acquiring it and all it took was a simple email. I asked the folks at Davey Tree Service if they wouldn’t mind dropping a load of wood chips in my driveway the next time they were in my neighborhood and the very next morning they did just that.

My neighbors probably think the huge pile of wood chips sitting in my driveway is an eyesore, but to me it’s beautiful, for it represents one more step along the path towards prosperity for the Inner City Farm.

 
On Tuesday I headed to the landfill near the airport to take advantage of one of my favorite things: free mulch!

Luckily, I have a vehicle that I am not very attached to so shoveling several yards of mulch into the back didn’t present much of a problem for me.

I took a fairly large dent out of the pile, but, trust me, there’s plenty more still there.

I used half the mulch I brought home in the garden, and the other half I am using to fill in the rudimentary French drains I dug under my gutters where the rain overflows and collects next to the house. Having pools of water so close to the house causes all sorts of problems. I’m also hoping to plant a bush in the hole next to the trench I dug so it can soak up all that excess water.

Initially, the trench worked perfectly as all the rainwater from the roof flowed into the trench and away from the house.

But, alas, when it rains in Texas, it rains hard, and the trench quickly filled up and started overflowing, which means it’s back to digging for me.