Full sun and a hazy heat all day through. Temperature stuck in the low 90Fs. The boys are talking about the coming 100F weather like a murder sentence.
Pulled in right on time-- but the farm was a ghost town. All the cars were around but none of boys-- the greenhouse watered. Clearly I'd be in the collective-shithouse for the rest of the day. On a hunch I ran up to the forest field and joined the gang. Everyone was there, like they'd made a secret decision to start the day a half hour early without telling me. The boss was there, Stretch, Newport, NYU and even Big Boy-- all out picking buckets of the summer squash, zucchini and a few kousa squash. I didn't think to bring a knife, so I just stood around carrying buckets like an idiot. Not an ally in sight.
Back at the farm store things evened out a bit. NYU and the boss got ready for the day's market, Newport and the foreman hitched up the new weeder attachment and headed to the pumpkins (Newport was tapped to control the machine). Stretch and Big Boy were entrusted to me. We gathered up some hoes and marched over to the young beds of lettuce out in the lower fields-- weeding was the order. I'm working on Big Boy and he's showing improvement-- but damn you can teach a kid to hoe, but you can't teach someone to give a shit about weeding-- even when he's excited by the idea of farm work. They either suck it up and get things done, or they half-ass through to closing. Even Stretch (who's usually a solid hand) chopped at the dirt like it was a fish on the beach. Once the boss left for market, the foreman shifted us over to readjust the remaining lines in the the trellised tomatoes-- then back to weeding. Half a lettuce row remained at lunch time.
After lunch I drove the boys back to hoeing lettuce-- it really took some pushing. Complaining about a job does nothing, it's better to look forward to another easier job-- so I told Big Boy how great picking blueberries would be. As per the boss's orders, we finished the lettuce and started packing trays in the barn to go pick blueberries. We got our buckets and morale was high as we made our way over the stone-slab bridge and through the blackberry fields. Then the foreman called-- change of plans. Begrudgingly we crossed the town road, dumping our trays and buckets in the blueberries for Bah and Old Rudolpho's crew-- it was more weeding for us.
Back in the greenhouse I once again handed out hoes and we meet the foreman near the tomato fields. The long rows of cantaloupe running parallel to the greenhouse needed a serious clearing-- weeds had grown into 4ft towers along the plastic's edges. The afternoon was getting hot and the boys looked like the foreman shot their dog. But we got to it.
An hour later, we still hadn't finished a single row-- something had to change. I'm much better with my hands than with a hoe, so I put it aside-- getting down and dirty pulling the old fashioned way. I went into a crazy man's mindset and just pulled. I finished both sides of a row in the time it took Stretch and Big Boy to finish one edge. The blueberries were coming I promised them. Things really turned around-- both of 'em put away the hoes and got on their knees to pull too. We had a row and a half left when I broke stride. The cantaloupes are in full bloom and I should have known to be careful-- I had a nasty bumblebee buried into my leg, stabbed clear through my jeans and all. First sting of the season, and honestly my first sting since I was very very young. I found a little shade behind some tall weeds, pulled down my jeans and scraped out the stinger with my pocket knife.
Back pulling, I was a lot more careful but also a lot slower. Finally done. Stretch and Big Boy ran to the kitchen to swipe a cup of ice cream-- I usually avoid that mess, but today I joined 'em. Coming out the farm store's back door, we bumped right into the foreman and Newport-- eyeballing our ice cream. Once again, we had pick buckets hanging from the shoulder-- but the foreman was pissy that we didn't think to weed the second squash planting/unplanted plastic rows by the greenhouse. Of course, we obliged. Stretch and Big Boy took the hoes and I went by hand. Eventually Newport and the foreman came to help out.
Big Boy made the mistake of complaining in front of the foreman, who looked the poor kid in the eye and said-- I've been working this job since before you could wipe your own ass (truth), suck it up. Big Boy certainly shut up. Fortunately, the weeding was finished before anything more. Off to the blueberries.
Newport, learning that Big Boy was a freshman in high school, decided we all needed to get our hazing kicks while the getting was good. Flashback to last year-- all the chewing outs Newport and the foreman gave me. Once we got across to the field, I took Big Boy aside and showed him how the picking is done: only pick all blue and only blue berries, faint reds/purples means its still unripe/tart. We filled up a few buckets over the hour or so until closing. Signed out, went home.
Glad to have the boss back tomorrow, but the heat wave is only building up.
On we go.
No comments:
Post a Comment