It wouldn’t be a hard stretch of the brain to imagine Cooter Hollow as some sort of magical place where Cheap Chinese Generators go to die, or at least succumb to our own peculiar style of enhanced interrogation. Historically, when we’ve needed a generator, it’s because the one before it …
I was setting up shop last Saturday to deal with the first real fruits of my ceaseless labor, and while sorting through the endless piles of cucumbers that have harvested, decided to pull out a jar of last year’s pickles to mitigate my guilt. The jar was labeled “10-10-10,” with …
I’ve threatened to talk about it before, but it’s been working for two solid weeks, so it’s time I introduce you to the Mud Dood. Nice, right? Well, let’s discuss. The Mud Dood (its sobriquet christened by the Young Person Sometimes Around These Parts), is better known as a Max …
It’s been noted before that the hauling of water ranks high up on the list of Most Unpleasant Tasks if You’re a Big Pussy at Cooter Hollow. Higher than de-quilling the dog from her latest adventures in porcupinery, and maybe even higher than Emergency Digging of Poopholes For Small People …
“No, we don’t need to borrow your log splitter.” Log splitters are yuppie indulgences, I’d thought, against the founding principles of Cooter Hollow, I’d thought. Axes and splitting mauls, that’s what we need. Of course, the reality of me with an axe involves knocking a log around, maybe peeling some …
Water for drinking and wash has been so far the most burdensome task at the Hollow, which means we have learned to get by being dehydrated and not smelling particularly well. We have plenty of water around camp, in the form of the leechy frogpond and the many streams that …
