To Sustain Me

On those occasions when I really need to dig deep to find a reason to be grateful, I have one ever-present item to sustain me: wood ticks find me very attractive.

—Mitchell Hegman

Desiree Setting Forms

I have always said that working with concrete is 100% bullwork.

Consider: It begins with earthmoving and ends with pouring concrete weighing in at 4,050-ish pounds per yard.

Desiree and I spent part of yesterday setting up to pour a concrete pad outside the lower-level entry to our cabin. After clearing out the vegetation in the allotted spot, we constructed forms and staked them solidly into the ground. The pour will require something near ¾ yard (3,037 pounds) of concrete, which we plan to mix ourselves in a borrowed portable mixer. Desiree has never done this sort of job, but I assured her we will be working our proverbial asses off.

I will say, up to this point, Desiree has deeply impressed me with her good old-fashioned savvy and work ethic when it comes to construction projects. She jumped right in on setting the forms and even made a couple of thoughtful suggestions along the way.

In a week or two, we will go for the "pour," four letters not being nearly enough to describe the grinding labor involved.

Desiree Setting Forms

—Mitchell Hegman

Crushed Shipping

If plants competed for the title of "Most Useful Living Thing," moringa would be a strong contender, if not the winner outright. It grows fast, tolerates abuse and poor soil, and produces edible leaves, flowers, and pods. Sometimes called the drumstick tree, moringa is native to warm regions of Asia.

The real appeal of moringa lies in its nutritional value. The leaves are rich in vitamins, minerals, antioxidants, and protein, more than one might expect from something that resembles spinach. Around the world, the leaves are eaten fresh, cooked into soups and stews, dried for tea, or ground into powder.

Desiree grew up eating moringa, which grew in abundance around her home province. Given this, she wanted to grow a moringa tree here. Sadly, this plant has one notable weakness: cold. A Montana winter would dispatch a moringa tree without a second thought. Fortunately, our sunroom would serve as a suitable host. With this in mind, Desiree ordered a moringa sapling. Yesterday, I picked up a parcel containing the young tree.

It's a good thing moringa can tolerate abuse because the postal service delivered precisely that. The package arrived crushed. Once we got the poor thing home, Desiree planted it and propped it upright. I captured a photograph of the moringa alongside a Cold Smoke beer as a reference for size.

Crushed Shipping

The Moringa Planted in Our Sunroom

—Mitchell Hegman

Taking the Alley

Yesterday, I drove down a long alley just off Broadway Street in Helena. I've always found alleys fascinating. As a kid growing up in East Helena, cutting through them was often my first option as I traveled across town.

Alleys offered the raw and ragged side of life. There you found overflowing and wholly abused garbage cans, old cars with their entrails hanging out, skittish cats, scraps of wood, and all manner of untended spaces where tall weeds could grow.

But treasure might also be found: recyclable bottles, yellow rose bushes overtaking leaning sheds, twisty metal stuff I liked, exotic beer cans for my growing collection, mirrors, and discarded junk I could use or take apart just for fun.

The jungly, narrow alley off Broadway did not disappoint. I negotiated past yellow roses in full bloom, stacks of weathered lumber, a strange bench seat made of wooden slats, leafy places where city deer bed down, one disemboweled truck, and a scattering of fly-away birds.

I'm sharing a photograph of the alley so you might enjoy it along with me. Every alley keeps a few treasures and secrets for those willing to take the long way through town.

The Alley Off Broadway

—Mitchell Hegman

Navigating Through Everyday Life

My wife has this one, I want to say, annoying habit that makes my navigation through everyday life treacherous at times. I’m referring, of course, to her ability to accurately remember everything I say or do for the long term.

—Mitchell Hegman

Snowball

In the softest light of the early evening, as waves spilled the last of their silver against the shore, I found Snowball, my neighbor Kevin’s black cat, on the concrete of my boat ramp down at the lakefront.

“Oh, hell…”

She was dead, stretched into a final pose among pinecones and thin strands of aquatic weed that had washed ashore and threaded themselves together.

Snowball made a good run for an outdoor cat. Something near 21 years. Though a couple of years ago, she lost half of her tail. Kevin told me she’d been missing for a couple of days. And she’d refused both breakfast and loving the last time he saw her.

Cats do that at the end of their days.

I walked up to Kevin’s place to tell him. “I guess you’ll want to do something with her,” I tendered.

A few minutes later, we were standing over Snowball. Her eyes were open, but dull and locked in a thousand-mile stare.

“I’m glad we found her,” I said. “It’s better to know. She was a good girl.”

“She was my friend,” Kevin responded. “One of my best friends.”

Kevin gathered up the cat and slipped her into a heavy plastic bag that once held salt for a water-softening system. And while it may not seem plausible, this was done with grace.

“I’m sorry, Kevin.”

Kevin acknowledged me wordlessly.

Some things don’t long for words.

Snowball

—Mitchell Hegman

Questions That Keep Me Awake at Night

• Why would anyone be mean to a turtle?
• If I was abducted by aliens, would they have a bathroom for me to use?
• Why is water wet?
• If ghosts walk through walls, why don't they fall through floors?

—Mitchell Hegman