Part of our planning for the new home included building a place for our wallaby Bindi to reside. She needs a place that serves two purposes; 1) She needs to be protected from the elements and other harmful things. 2) She needs to be able to not shit in my house.
The Bindi Bungalow serves both purposes.
After checking with some local retailers, I realized that I am not wealthy and therefore would have to build the critter condo with my own free labor. And by “my own free labor” I mean my children. And a coworker who was willing to work in exchange for pizza and pasta.
Maybe my only shot at an engineer.
We built a footing, joists, and a floor fit for a queen. The pad was ready for the DIY Shed kit from Lowes
We traveled across the barrens of asphalt and traffic known as “The Bypass” to the home improvement store. I purchased a pre-cut, unassembled shed that would look great and wouldn’t take more than a long afternoon to assemble. How could it possibly take longer than a couple of hours? It couldn’t. Impossible.
The staff at the home improvement store were not what I would describe as the sharpest knives in the drawer. They almost crushed my truck with a fully loaded forklift because of a general misunderstanding of gravity and geometry. I was able to wave them off before the springs exploded and I redirected them in actually unloading the pallet of wood into the bed of the truck. The load was really long and was trying to fall off the forklift so the operator stacked a pallet of mulch on top of the shed and tried to set both in my truck.
FYI, these kits don’t include roofing or paint.
I drove home and promptly began construction… on something else. Then the next day I was able to begin on the shed.
Just as I finished the walls, our fall weather brought three inches of rain. It was a hard week of finding time to finish shingles to protect the high-quality particle board walls.
A few more days of details and painting and the structure was finished.
Then we started on the inside of the house. We waterproofed the floor with flex seal and added a wire grid to keep our dear wallaby away from the front door and prevent her escape; an escape that we have determined from past experience, is probably fatal.
After a solid three weeks of effort. It was time for Bindi to come home. She had been a resident in Mamaw’s basement for entirely too long. She had forgotten who we were and gave exactly two shits about leaving the basement. Oh well.
We loaded her into a pet carrier and drove home. We spread wood chips on the floor and wrapped her crate in blankets for insulation. Winter was approaching and she hadn’t put on any extra fur. Supermom had the fear that she would freeze to death. I had less of a fear and more of a scientific curiosity about the matter. I hypothesized that she would respond to the cold and grow fur. She did so everyone is happy.
Queen Bindi in her new castle.
We could tell that Bindi was stressed from her new environment so Supermom decided that she needed to be able to watch her remotely.
SM: I need to see what she is doing. She could be eating the floor coating or something could get in there with her.
UD: Video would be just like a baby monitor. Whatever bad things you are worried about, listening or in this case watching isn’t going to help. You just get emotionally scarred by watching the murder happen in real time.
SM: I need to see her.
UD: She is going to be fine. She is a T-rex goat deer. She doesn’t have a box of razors or hard narcotics. Very little to monitor.
SM: I. Need. To. See. Her.
Infrared wallaby cam 3000.
Long story short – we got a solar panel, Wi-Fi-cameras, and a battery powered *(won’t stay charged so now I am likely running a power circuit out to the wallaby shed to power a 12v, 5mA) webcam.
Also, queen princess on high Bindi requires a leisurely area for her majesty to stretch her legs outside of her dedicated 8×12 day room so, I will likely be building a small fenced in area and a doggy door in the shed for her to hop in and out as she pleases. And I know that five minutes after I complete the fence and the webcam and we settle in to watch all the excitement beside a window-that-we-could-open-and-do-the-same-thing-but-it-is-cold-so-we-don’t, a giant hawk will swoop in and carry her away.
We will both cry but for different reasons.
Just kidding. I love Bindi and the shed and the challenge of making things work for this weird pet. It makes life interesting. And I don’t think a hawk could carry her away, she is getting huge. An eagle maybe, but a hawk? No.
Somewhat related subject – The previous owners left a palm tree and it is an impressive palm tree. I did notice that we live in an area where palm trees are not native but I really like the palm tree so I had an interest in keeping it alive. They told us that it would need to be moved into the sunroom for the winter. Makes sense.
Over the next few weeks I learned that I am the only person on the planet who doesn’t fully understand the value of this palm tree. Apparently, a palm tree that reaches eight feet tall in the south is an equivalent value to one of the tablets that Moses carried off the mountain where he talked with the burning bush and it burned moral suggestions into solid stone. I learned this fact in the following way…
One afternoon I decided to move the palm tree inside. I found it was rooted through the container directly into the ground. Problem number one. No matter, the roots were small and I could probably break it loose by grabbing the top and swaying it from side to side. I grabbed the top and felt a shooting pain through my fingers down to my spine. I swore loudly, “Holy border wall Batman! What fresh hell have I summoned?”. Of course, that is a paraphrase but the Lord was referenced at least once. I looked at my now bleeding hand and realized that this particular palm tree has a double row of serrated teeth that look like the back of a dragon. I let go of the base with my other hand and the tree rocked back into place and slapped me with a giant palm frond. My next thought was, “Fuck this tree. It can die in a deep winter freeze and rot in the spring like an unharvested potato in a field.” I relayed this sentiment to Supermom who disagreed.
UD: We don’t really need it. We will have to do this every year!
SM: I like it and they worked hard to keep it alive. We cant just let it die!
UD: Watch me! Effortless!
SM: Do you know how expensive a nice palm tree is?
UD: People pay lots of all kinds of stupid things. We bought a wallaby for godsake!
SM: You don’t mean that!
UD: I’m just angry about the thorns in my hand.
SM: It is a scratch.
UD: TWO scratches!
SM: We are keeping the palm tree.
UD: In a hole in the ground after it dies.
A few days later my stepmom, GJ, is at the house.
GJ: You need to bring in the palm tree.
UD: I’m not keeping it.
GJ: Are you just going to let it die?!
UD: Pretty much.
GJ: You can’t do that. That is a really nice palm tree.
UD: Only nice palm trees deserve to live? It is not native. I will have to do this every year.
GJ: They are expensive. Your dad can help you move it inside.
UD: I’m not in good standing with that tree I think we just need to let it die.
Later that afternoon my phone rings.
Dangraddy: GJ says you need help moving a palm tree.
Dangraddy: Did you already move it?
UD: Nope. Screw that tree.
Dangraddy: That is a nice palm tree. You cant just let it die.
UD: YES I CAN. IT IS MY TREE. I DECREE IT HAS OFFENDED THE KING AND ITS SENTENCE IS SLOW FREEZING DEATH ON MY PORCH. WHAT IS IT WITH THIS PALM TREE? DOES IT OWE YOU MONEY OR CURE CANCER?
Dangraddy: Your wife wants the tree you need to save it. It is going to frost tonight. Cover it up and I’ll come help you move it tomorrow.
UD: Just look the other way and this will all be over tomorrow. We can go about our lives and forget about this magical albatross tree.
Dangraddy: Cover the tree. I’ll see you tomorrow.
I attempted to cover the tree with a bedsheet and a canvas drop cloth. It was comical but it worked. The next morning we wedged it out of the ground and moved it into our sunroom with a furniture dolly and a work ethic fueled by bitter hatred of the tree. I stepped in dog shit and cut my hand a few more times. One of the barbs went right under my thumbnail and into the layer below. Other than those little annoyances the move went smoothly. I thanked my father for his help and for forcing me into the right decision. Supermom was happy and the tree was safe for the winter.
Five minutes after getting the devil tree settled.
Supermom: That container is kind of ugly and falling apart. Can we change it to a bigger pot?
UD: (Left eye twitching) …No.
With the wallaby safe and the blessed palm of Jesus safe we moved on to other projects. Like the fact that we can get a really tall tree into the sunroom.
Everyone likes the tall tree. Supermom was right again.
If anyone is a constant victim of what they feel is misplaced effort, this post is for you. You’re welcome. It is all worth it in the end and happy wife does equal happy life. I promise. More of our adventures to come.
Oh and I almost forgot. I got this page from a coloring book and I am trying to interpret what my seven year old was trying to convey. It is from a fire safety book.
All I can deduce is that Bob’s mom has a hot ass. Supermom says I am incorrect.
What weirdo hangs the smoke detector on the wall. It goes on the ceiling at the highest point. They would be dead before this thing went off. And the floating tree out the window. Why are they checking the smoke alarm in a tornado? I’m so confused.
-Underdaddy to the rescue.