Cooking at Chula Vista
While still waiting for a bid for our renovation plan, we look for excuses to visit Chula Vista. Because I didn’t want to wait any longer to finally have a grill again, we bought a Big Green Egg. And because we didn’t want to move it from the rental, it was delivered to Chula Vista. The BGE offers amazing control over cooking temperature while imparting a delightful smokey flavor. Soon, now that I have a handle on direct cooking, I want to try to make a pizza sometime. Today, pork tenderloins.
In addition to providing space to grill, Chula Vista offers many opportunities take advantage of our bees to grow fruit and vegetables. On the south side of the garage, towards the street, there’s already a set of beds. In the summer, when the sun’s course is further to the north, the garage can provide some shelter from the intense mountain-desert sun. I don’t know yet if that’s necessary, but the hoops over many of the beds suggest that it might be. Initial attempts to grow fall crops indicate that we will need to raise the beds against rabbits.
For whatever might tolerate full sun, we have a nice spot on the northern edge of the septic field to build some raised beds.
And we have a greenhouse. How do you use a greenhouse? Lots to learn.
In other adventures this week, we attempted to get Mocha to a vet appointment. Mocha is much more physically capable than Robert or me. She’s also more determined not to go to the vet than we are to get her there. The first step of the plan was to barricade the bed so that she could not retreat to the box springs, her favorite hiding place. Next, we corralled her into the bedroom, where she immediately went into a cubby on her cat tower. Robert, with leather gloves to his elbows, reached in to pull her out. A tussle ensued. As he started to have some success, she leapt from the tower and forced herself under the weakest barricade, a very heavy king-sized pillow. Under the bed she began to howl. I opened one side and tried to sweep her out with a broom, but once she is in the box springs, she’s not budging. Eventually we tore apart the bed and turned the box spring on its side. She pooped. We tried to pull her out, but she was twisted up into the springs, hissing, and adamant. Mocha’s hierarchy has not being captured at the very base, with priority over all else including food, water, love, and affection. She applies nearly all of her scant intelligence and considerable physical ability toward this priority. We gave up, for now. I have some burlap and a staple gun on order. These will repair the underside of the box springs and remove her favorite refuge.