Over the course of last year, I paid WAY too much money just to keep my garden watered. Actually, from April to September, my water costs were nearly double what they should be.
Here in Chattanooga, we have a typical water bill, which is based on the meter reading the amount of water coming out of my faucets. I live inside the City limits (though the local govt has greedily been annexing surrounding areas as fast as it can), so I also pay a city sewer bill to cover the amount of water that goes down my drain. Since the Tennessee River is both our source for water AND our dumping ground for wastewater/ greywater, we have an additional Water Quality Fee. Finally, thanks to former Mayor Ron Littlefield, we suffer an insanely high "Stormwater Runoff Fee," taxing us on the planet's water cycle itself. That last one has particularly irked residents, because it's not a tax on water we even use, but that falls from the sky and passes right past our property. This year, I was determined to change that ratio a little more in my favor.
Late last year, at the cost of $2.4 million to the taxpayers, the City dropped on of these off at every driveway in the city limits. It's a blue 96-gallon wheeled container.
Here in Chattanooga, we have a typical water bill, which is based on the meter reading the amount of water coming out of my faucets. I live inside the City limits (though the local govt has greedily been annexing surrounding areas as fast as it can), so I also pay a city sewer bill to cover the amount of water that goes down my drain. Since the Tennessee River is both our source for water AND our dumping ground for wastewater/ greywater, we have an additional Water Quality Fee. Finally, thanks to former Mayor Ron Littlefield, we suffer an insanely high "Stormwater Runoff Fee," taxing us on the planet's water cycle itself. That last one has particularly irked residents, because it's not a tax on water we even use, but that falls from the sky and passes right past our property. This year, I was determined to change that ratio a little more in my favor.
Late last year, at the cost of $2.4 million to the taxpayers, the City dropped on of these off at every driveway in the city limits. It's a blue 96-gallon wheeled container.
It's for recycling, and at the annual cost of over $250K a year to the taxpayers, the city will magnanimously pick up our recyclables, take them to the recycling centers, and pocket the cash. I reuse a great many item, but unless I'm being paid for my materials, I don't recycle.
When I lived out in the county, the local garbage collection company left one of these at my driveway, but told me that if I kept it, I would be billed an extra $160 a year for them to provide that service. I promptly had them pick their can back up. This one, is being paid for with the taxes already being taken from me, so I decided to make use of it in any way I could. It could have been a composter. It could have been an unwieldy wheelbarrow. A couple times, I've strapped it down in my truck and used it to haul random piles of stuff here or there. But when March got here, it finally assumed its ultimate form: a water barrel.
When I lived out in the county, the local garbage collection company left one of these at my driveway, but told me that if I kept it, I would be billed an extra $160 a year for them to provide that service. I promptly had them pick their can back up. This one, is being paid for with the taxes already being taken from me, so I decided to make use of it in any way I could. It could have been a composter. It could have been an unwieldy wheelbarrow. A couple times, I've strapped it down in my truck and used it to haul random piles of stuff here or there. But when March got here, it finally assumed its ultimate form: a water barrel.
To fill it, I wanted to use the downspout nearest to my garden, but that was also right next to my carport. Sometimes I drive all the way through my carport to get things to the back yard, so I didn't want the water barrel blocking my drive. Since my property ends about 12" past my carport, there was not enough uncontested room over there either (aside from the fact that I didn't want a huge blue barrel displayed that prominently). I devised a dozen methods of constructing elaborate means of making a first-flush system, switches, and designs that would've made Rube Goldberg proud. I spend hours in Home Depot redesigning this thing in my head, and finally ended on the simple approach. I reworked the downspout to include a section of flex spout. When I want to fill the barrel, I drag the barrel over to the spout and extend the flexible section over to the top of the barrel. When I'm not filling the barrel, the flexible section simply fits right back into the lower half of the downspout. |
Now, 96 gallons of water weight roughly 800 pounds, so moving it the eight feet back to it's usual spot by myself takes about ten minutes, but I'm much more satisfied than I would have been leaving it next to the downspout. I got it all set up before we had a big rain on the forecast, so it filled up in a single night of rain. I used roughly half of the barrel drenching the fire ant hills described in a previous post, but another day of rain filled it right back up. The day may come when that barrel just gives up the ghost and bursts all over me, but it's a pretty rugged barrel, and I try to go easy on the axle when I move it.
A full rain barrel with an open top is just begging to become a breeding ground for mosquitoes, so I took the natural route that many others have done. Part of the reason to collect rainwater is because the amount of chlorine in our tap water keeping it safe for us to drink also kills all the beneficial microbes in the soil, so I didn't want to add chlorine or bleach to the barrel. Mosquito Dunks are about $10, but if I'm late in adding a new one next month, I might be overrun with blood-suckers. Instead, I went to Walmart last night and bought a dozen common goldfish for 38¢ a piece. I dumped them into the barrel, sprinkled a few fish food granules on top to get them going, and walked away. By this morning, they were all swimming around happy as can be, and they will continually work for me as slave fish, keeping the mosquito larvae at bay.
A full rain barrel with an open top is just begging to become a breeding ground for mosquitoes, so I took the natural route that many others have done. Part of the reason to collect rainwater is because the amount of chlorine in our tap water keeping it safe for us to drink also kills all the beneficial microbes in the soil, so I didn't want to add chlorine or bleach to the barrel. Mosquito Dunks are about $10, but if I'm late in adding a new one next month, I might be overrun with blood-suckers. Instead, I went to Walmart last night and bought a dozen common goldfish for 38¢ a piece. I dumped them into the barrel, sprinkled a few fish food granules on top to get them going, and walked away. By this morning, they were all swimming around happy as can be, and they will continually work for me as slave fish, keeping the mosquito larvae at bay.
The fish are happy, my plants will be happy, my wallet will me happy, and I am happy. I am learning a lot about the symbiotry of nature, saved a lot of money, and am growing healthy food for my family. Those are all real benefits just from having a rain barrel. I have to admit, though, that there is also a deep satisfaction in having property that the government does not control. The water in my barrel was never metered, tracked, regulated, or taxed, and I think that is where the real spirit of the true American finds happiness.