Full sun all day through-- big clouds blowing by. The temperature stuck in the mid 70Fs. Newport, the resident weatherman, has a bad feeling about the beginning/end of this weekend. Possible heavy rain from the west on Thursday, then a hurricane is working its way up from the south: aimed to hit us Monday if it keeps on the current trajectory. No rain please, no hurricanes either. Fingers crossed.
Last Night: met up with Gizzie and my brother at the infamous 'rock diner' in town-- it's hidden far behind an old furniture factory, sandwiched between a rail yard and burned out gear factory. The diner car was converted long ago into a bar: it has since become the young-functional-drunkards' hole of choice. We sat outside in some plastic lawn furniture, smoking/drinking and chatting-- brought Gizzie up to speed (what to wear, what to do) and tried to put the fear of fields into him (just for laughs). My brother is headed back to school at the end of the week-- so every beer is precious. I'm antsy to get Gizzie working. So much going on at once.
Got to the farm real early today, I'm inching in a half-hour earlier each day. When I pulled in-- I had a surprise: the foreman rumbled by in the new tractor, with his girlfriend sitting up in the cab with him. I really don't know much about her, besides that she lives in the same city as Darlin (just like me, the foreman buses down every couple weekends to visit). The foreman has a secret argument with Newport over which of their girlfriends is the most attractive-- the arguments pitch back 'n forth depending on the week. Real surprisingly, the foreman's girlfriend stuck around all day: helping out in the barn, prepping/cooking tomato sauce in the kitchen, helping Viking in the store and riding around with the foreman. I guess she works as an assistant to an art dealer while in the city.
Since it was early, I gave Newport a hand setting up the store-- filling all the baskets and carting beets/lettuce/carrots from the cooler. We searched through the tomato display, throwing out all the ones that split or molded overnight. I met the boss down in the barn-- today was the big money market, so everything needed to be ready. The boss, the foreman's girlfriend and I loaded 60-70 boxes of tomatoes/30 cantaloupe into the van for market. I carried 8 tomato boxes/10 cantaloupe up to refill the store. The foreman delivered 10 bags of corn, I arranged 4 bags worth out in front of store (stowed away 4 more bags to refill the display) and tossed 2 bags into the van.
Viking almost missed work this morning. Her car's front right wheel got banged up and could hardly drive. But the boss saved the day-- he took Viking and her car to his farm mechanic in town and then drove her to work (ultimately they replaced the wheel/finagled the brakes and wheel connection thing: for just $80). Then Viking found $80s lying in the parking lot-- she ran around checking with everyone/customers, but no one claimed it. So she got her car fixed for just about free. In the store, she told me it was good karma coming back to her. She said that last night she found a dying Starlet (a small bird), she picked it up and tried to comfort it. It died soon after. Viking said that she and her husband cried themselves to sleep last night over the bird-- and then she dreamed about the bird. So the 80 dollars were a gift from the bird. I nodded my head and said, yes good karma-- but I was glad that she told me this story of hers and not Newport, he would have had a stroke.
Next up: bucket washing. The foreman dropped all the buckets we have out behind the store-- they were filthy, caked with rotten tomato skin/juice/dirt. Didn't miss this job. I arranged all the buckets out, filled each one with a couple inches of water and then scrubbed them one by one with an old broken mop that was lying around. Almost clean is good enough for field work-- so, I then pitched all the water/debris into the tractor road and stacked all the alike buckets together.
Time for fun-- potatoes were up next. Lots of potatoes. The foreman drove up the buckets, while Newport and I hiked to the backside of the hilltop. We pulled 4 buckets worth before lunch.
After lunch I met Newport at his car, we started to realize just what we were in for today-- lots of potatoes. The long pole hoes didn't work too well, so we carried hand-hoes back up to the hilltop field-- we took a nice little detour through the peach orchard and fall-raspberry fields. The boss wanted 15 buckets worth of potatoes, that is a lot. I figure that we fit about 60lbs worth in each, so 900lbs total of potatoes (10 buckets of red, 5 buckets of white). The sun beat down and we got dirty.
At one point we took a break and lounged in the shade for a smoke. Newport had something on his mind-- and it didn't take him long to say what. He was furious about two things that just happened, and he explained them in great detail. First-- an illegal immigrant was arrested, in the next town, for driving drunk with his 5 year old son in the passenger seat: he hit a 23 year old recent college grad on a motorcycle and dragged him 2 miles before stopping. The young man was very dead. Second-- in another nearby town, a young man is being tried for killing his girlfriend on their high school graduation day then chopping up the body and burying it in the swamp. Newport was very angry: he wanted the immigrant executed or deported and the boy executed. Newport has been seeing the inside of the local justice workings in the past weeks-- and has been very disappointed with what he's seen. He explained: if someone does something so terrible as these men did, they should be killed-- no one should pay for their life imprisonment. Newport was brutal: why should we be 'humane' by giving someone life-in-prison, when (as in these cases) they are guilty of denying others that same 'humane' right to live? Newport said: we need to realize, there are bad people in this world. They won't play by your rules. He said: the dead guy and girl had lives ahead of them, they were young and all that has been lost. Newport said: Justice doesn't fix anything, nothing is righted, nothing can 'get back' what is lost-- an execution cuts our losses, its flawed and not right: but the world is flawed and not right.
We buried our cigarettes and got back to pulling potatoes.
We pulled potatoes for some long hours. When all the buckets were finally full we carried them down to the edge of the stonewall. Hiked back through the peach orchard down to the barn-- it was filled with 60 full tomato buckets. Newport (in a much better mood) got the radio and we shined/sorted. The foreman dropped off 3 more tractor loads of buckets-- then left to bring down the potato buckets. Hours of music and tomatoes.
The light started to lower and it seemed to be getting late: half hour until closing. Newport and I walked around to the store and found the potato buckets waiting-- we managed to wash 5 buckets worth before the days end: boxed them up and stacked into the cooler. Another day done.
Take it easy.
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