


The gold is stolen by the dwarf Alberich and forged into an all powerful magic ring...which causes seven hell's worth of grief to all who pursue it.

In the end, it causes the downfall of the Gods and the destruction of Valhalla....And yes, then the Fat Lady sings!
Brigade Commander, William Sprocket (the Black Prince who Wails) and Master Sargent, Chester Rachet rest on the front porch rail. Chester has mellowed over the years. No longer the complete feral, he allows us to be near and will actulally sit in Ms. D's lap.
The latest addition to come to live with us is Daschel Cat'tal Mutt. He is a true feral. He does not meow or purr or allow any human near. A young married couple who lived a few doors down from us went through a nasty divorce and Dash was abandonded. He likes being around Sprocket and Rachet...his "pride". We keep him fed and he sleeps in the old leaky storage garage next to the reloading shed. Off to the east of the reloading shed is the small "Back Forty" where close by sit the smoker and the BBQ grill. Beyond is the garden plot where I have 12 years of composted kitchen waste, coffee grounds from the local coffee shop, and sheep/horse manure when available. It is a rich, double depth dug bit of ground where red wrigglers and giant nitecrawlers keep residence.

"Square foot" intensive gardening is practiced. Wherein I plant winter hardy spinach and roots early under plastic covers. When they are harvested, I turn the earth over to summer salads. Then, on the north fence, I plant sunflowers, then south tomatoes, peppers and cukes then volunteer pumpkins rise most every year.
Along the east side of the house is an herb bed...Perennials of sage and horehound and oregano and rosemary where I mix in plantings of annuals: basil, thyme, cilantro, parsley....some of which reseed themselves to the rich earth.
In front of the house I plant mounds of Italian green beans, squash and drought hardy flowers....zinnias, marigolds, whatever comes to be ready in the local nurseries.
Food we raise and share. Good clean veges to mix with the harvest of wild game.
Not bad for an aging ol' fart living in the Nor'west corner of New Los Angeles.
