Backs

The back door is a known problem. Damaged, it leaks, and the "lock" they had on it couldn't be unlocked from the outside. We had a lock installed, the smith wary of how little wood he had to work into, warned us it would take a different approach if we replaced the door. The plexiglass window could probably just be pushed out, the dog door is put in badly, and the whole thing has a much-dog-scratched patina. Too tall for a standard door, non-standard in most ways, we threw up our hands at doing it ourselves, lacking tools, skills and know-how to deal with this many variables.

So, we're getting a guy from Homedespot, which seems to be a decent way to find handymen. Not in a huge hurry, Spike - the next-door dog, would alert us to an intruder. But before winter certainly. Spike is not a constant barker, a very nice dog, who seems to have found a nice family of guy and cats. But he does alert to anyone in his or adjacent backyards.


Found Whoopity Scoot
"If you need to get some place in a hurry—lickety-split, pell mell, on the double!—you’d better whoopity scoot, a phrase that means to move rapidly, but not necessarily with any grace. Any Missourians still use this one?"
Over at Mental Floss. Sounds like Moby when he's on a chase.



Dug a hole in the front, for a chili plant. A shovel depth down, through dense sod reinforced with plastic netting (ugh) lots of heavy clay, until I reached rocks that looked like the bottom of an old stream. Refilled with a mix of bagged soil, probably not going to do many more this year. Felt like I would have done as well with a spoon, it took me so much time and effort.

Bit at a time, learning patience.