We've been digging fairly huge holes, and filling them up with Chad's specially-researched mix of soilish stuff, so that our little drought tolerant darlings have a fighting chance.
Today, we tried hosing down the clay to soften it, but the result was a bunch of little mud lakes (a painful demonstration that we have absolutely no drainage whatsoever). The whole thing gave me some insight into the ancient "AHA!" moment when the idea of the clay pot was first conceived. I can imagine some thirsty ancestors discovering that the ground they walked on was completely impermeable. They must have been stoked. I just hope they were smart enough to know not to try to plant their crops in it.
If you were Trevor, do you think you could have resisted the urge to explore the mud lakes?
It reminds me of a song my dad taught me:Mud, mud, glorious mud!
Nothing quite like it for cooling the blood.
So follow me, follow,
Down to the hollow,
And there we will wallow in glorious mud!
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