All of Arkansas now is designated at “high” danger of wildfire. And as of 1:47pm yesterday, for the first time this year, the Marion County Judge imposed a county-wide burn ban, which will expire in 60 days (but could be lifted sooner).
We know we’ve been lucky this year. We had enough wet weather over the summer to hold restrictions at bay. The judge, I think, did the right thing by waiting ’til now to declare a ban.
But here we are. And where we are, Deb and I, is unlike anyplace else we’ve ever lived. Never before has either of us been mindful of the risk of forest fire — but things change when you live in the forest.
We came from an Ohio county that’s just 17% wooded. Now we’ve planted our flag where forest covers 64% of the landscape. To dismiss the threat posed by current conditions would be foolish at best, deadly at worst.
And so we adjust. Until further notice, our burn barrel will be cold. Brush in the burn pit can wait. We’ll truck our corrugated cardboard to the transfer station, and we’ll set aside other combustibles for when the burn ban no longer is in effect.
We also remain vigilant about more immediate threats, well beyond The Mountain. With as much as 70% of the surrounding area — Marion, Boone, Baxter and Searcy counties — occupied by woodland and grassland, we choose to stay informed about active fires and prescribed burns.
To do that, we use the Frontline Wildfire Tracker app. It’s a robust and useful utility, offering a map, real-time notifications and other tools.
If you live in a region prone to wildfires, I strongly suggest that you download, install, and make prudent use of this app or one like it. It doesn’t replace your own senses, nor is it a substitute for alerts directly from local officials, but it’s another good way to stay aware.
I was awakened this morning by my left shoulder — a wave of intense pain, bordering on searing, jarred me from slumber. When I achieved consciousness, I felt my right knee sending similar signals to my brain. The pain persisted after I was up and moving.
I didn’t pop any pills. I didn’t sink into a chair or go back to bed. Once I was off the phone with Deb and she’d begun her day, I began mine.
Strangely, despite what was going on with my shoulder and knee, I wanted to work. I was in the mood to do physical things, get my blood pumping, break a sweat.
Mission accomplished.
My outdoor firewood rack needed to move. I didn’t necessarily have a problem with where I’d left it, next to the cabin, but it was kinda in the way. I thought it’d be better to put it just off the driveway, toward the picnic table.
And that meant wrasslin’ my 200-pound creation 30 feet over rough gravel. There was no easy way to do it. I simply threw myself at the task and got it done.
Better. Still convenient to the north door of the cabin. Looks good.
(Ow.)
Then it was time to tackle some of the volunteer overgrowth dominating the lower level and the bank below the driveway. It’s served its purpose this year, now dying back or going to seed (or both).
First I addressed the area around the well shed. From there I moved on to the leach field and the bank. Tangled grass and brush, along with sumac saplings and greenbrier, were dispatched with our DeWalt 20V long-reach hedge trimmers and a pair of loppers.
Several of the pokeweed plants had gotten so massive that I almost grabbed a saw to bring them down. Trunks as big as my wrist.
When I was finished, the place didn’t look manicured. It didn’t even look particularly tidy. This was an exercise in control, not preening. Everything I cut was left where it dropped, to amend the soil (what soil there is) and leave seeds that’ll become next year’s crop of volunteers.
Much of this vegetation, including the poke, develops and propagates by way of rhizomes, often called “rootstalks” or “runners.” Once established — and this stuff definitely is established — there’s truly no stopping it. We’ll do our best to contain it.
As for today’s work, it was done in time for me to chat with Deb during her afternoon lunch break.
Every day of work has something to teach. I discovered, for example, that the long-handled, articulating hedge trimmer was the wrong tool for this job — specifically, the “mowing” of soft, matted grasses near the ground. It handled woody growth well, but I pushed it beyond what it’s designed to do.
Our two-stroke brush cutter would’ve been a better choice, except that I wanted to take things back short and close. I would’ve constantly bashed the four-lobe steel blade on rocks and such, dulling and perhaps damaging it.
See, I really was trying to do without a string trimmer. Now I’m in the market for one. It’d make sense to go with a 20V DeWalt, but that’s damned spendy. I could pick up a cheapie off of Amazon or at Harbor Freight, but that has its own downside.
We’ll see. It may be spring before I decide.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB