The Rainbarreling!

So you already know I am kind of a moron when doing handy-man type stuff. But that doesn't stop me. Today I strode confidently across the lawn again, in that way that makes my husband stop and take notice. Because that is exactly the stride I hit when I am about to poke my eye out with a power tool.

The stride was followed up by my brandishing a hacksaw with a brand new blade for this occasion. This occasion being, the rainbarreling!

Pinellas County extension sold me the rain barrel yesterday along with a class. These are big blue industrial-type barrels that used to hold foodstuffs, usually fruit juices. Mine smells like fruit punch. And now the car, my clothes and my hair all smell like juicyfruit gum. Here I thought hippies usually smell like patchouli.

I already have 3 barrels out back and I've seen the class before, but I wanted pointers. Because this rain barreling was going to be different. Challenging! It was going to involve cutting the downspout.

This is something I've managed to avoid so far. When we moved in, most of our downspouts were already in pieces held together with spit and rubber bands. I'm not sure why all those downspouts were mangled by the previous owners, but it makes me aware that I'm not the first handyman-impaired person to take up residence in this home.

So anyway, here I go, hacksaw in hand, striding gamely toward my next emergency room visit. Andy jogs after me, asking what's up and convincingly acting like he is interested in rain barrels and not just trying to save the ER co-pay. I beat him to the downspout, jump into the thick hibiscus and porter's weed and start lining up the saw.

"Have you taken measurements or anything?" he asks. I laugh at the thought and take a swipe with the saw. Paint flutters off the metal spout.

I was settled in, sizing up my saw angle when I hear it.

"Hold on" was all he had to say. Immediately I jumped out of the bushes. He pointed to something under the downspout, then knocked on the tin. Out jumps a Wolf spider the size of my fist. Big knobby knees, gray fur on a brown body, holy crap!

It's Nature Boy's job to scare the spider away. While he shoos it through the brush, I wonder at the moment. His words weren't loud, but they possessed a tone that made me jump out of the way. It was my first (only) act of self preservation today. It lasted two whole seconds.

Together we managed to remove the downspout and set up the rainbarrel without an ER visit, yippee! With any luck all the hibicus blooms will smell like juicyfruit this year!