Gravity Is Our Friend

As you may remember, we have no well at the Cañon City homestead. We have a 1200 gallon cistern buried in the ground slightly above and to one side of the house. It was a royal pain in the patoot to get the water from the truck cistern into the ground cistern. We had to drive the truck up the hill as far as we could - which wasn't very far - and hope that we didn't run over the water line that goes from the cistern to the house, and also hope that we were far enough above the cistern that the water would drain out of the truck and into the ground.

Last week we installed a new and improved system. It was a complete success on it's maiden voyage, but we yet to test it in the winter. Still, we are hopeful.

We now drive the truck full of water part way down the drive and stop at the telephone pole. This is where the magic begins.

Note the pink fabric tie holding the water line to the pole. The line is connected to a ball valve on the truck cistern.

The waterline then proceeds down the hill at a rather severe angle.

See the pink thing? That's the next fabric tie. Hanging on to a tree.

This is looking from the bottom up. It is 175 feet from the telephone pole to the cistern. And no fun at all to climb.

Here are the inspectors checking the permit. The white cap you can see on the straw bale is removed when filling the cistern, and that L portion of the line sits down in the top of the white cistern cap.

Now, you make wonder why this is such a big deal. Well, it now takes only 30 minutes for the truck cistern to empty its precious cargo to the house cistern, instead of the 2.5 hours it took before. And it's way easier. Except we've never had to do it in cold weather. That may not be so neato. It is a long walk to the house from that spot on the driveway.

Sweet Butter Dog

Every living room needs a dog and a weed whacker.

No, not doggie jail. The backseat of the truck, now all dogs, all the time.

Camo dog.

Friends enjoying each others' company.

Sleepy or just avoiding the camera?

Not sleeping now!

This is why we call her The Smilin' Mollie Dog.

Love You, Mollie. Thanks for being our pal.

Why Is This Man Smiling?

OK, this one is obvious. Note the beer.

But this makes no sense. Who in their right mind would be smiling at removing mouse poopy cabinets?

He's dressed for going under the house with the spiders and dead rodents. Still, he seems happy. Maybe it's because he looks so sharp.

Yes, he cleverly figured out how to affix the slipping strap, but why isn't he frowning at the strap slipping in the first place?

It was a nice day, and kind of fun to play in the water, but that muck smelled awful. Yet, he grins.

Fixing the marriage line on the house is no reason for smileyness.

Guess he's just a Happy Guy!

Hoopa, the Everything Guard

Lowland guard.

Hoopa is such an  interesting dog. Sometimes she's just all movement and skitter-skatter. Other times, she is very Zen-like, just quietly observing. And guarding. It's one of her best things.

Mouse patrol.

Making sure there were no mice in the strawbale that helps insulate the water pipe is a job best left to the expert.

Cistern guard.

There are dangerous chipmunks in the neighborhood. I'm not making this up. They have repeatedly attempted to build a nest under the propane tank cover.

Pond guard. None finer.

I have made the completely unfounded (and untested) decision that the pond water is OK-ish to drink because Hoops didn't get the runs from her slurping.

Some rest for the weary, but you have to quit early to beat Bubba to the cushy spot.

We call her the Oklahoma Dirt Dog 'cause she's happy to just lay down in the warm dirt and sleep. Bless her spotty little head and questionable breath.