Hot, very hot and a thick haze choked the air-- when the foreman woke up this morning (he told me), he walked out to the little porch off his apartment and saw the hazy sunrise: it was thicker than cigarette smoke. Thermometer bounced between 97F and 98F. Humid as a wet diaper.
Got in early again this morning and caught NYU down in the greenhouse watering the seedlings-- he was all dolled up in bermuda shorts and a tucked in polo for market. I tried not to laugh. We really soaked through the trays and let the water flood up in the rosemary pots. Especially on hot days you gotta be sure to let the hose run a few minutes before turning it on the plants-- the first 30 seconds of water comes out searing hot and would poach the plants to death. Newport, Stretch and I made up today's wrecking crew-- as per the boss's orders, we marched up to the forest field with pick crates to cut basil.
We filled three crates to overflowing-- had to sit on the top just to lock the latches. Since yesterday more cucumbers, summer squash and zucchini ripened up-- so we stashed the basil crates in the shade and marched down the field with a couple buckets. Midway through the pickling cukes the morning air burned off into the full day heat. Stretch parcelled us out some water from the 2 gallon jug he schleps around. We got 2 big buckets of pickling cukes, 1 full bucket of summer squash and 1 small bucket of zucchini. The boss swung around in the rental van and hauled us and the catch back to the farm store.
Today was double market, so we helped NYU load up the van then stuffed the cooler with our crates, the squashes and 9 buckets of string beans that Bah and Old Rudolpho's crew picked. Next up, the foreman took us over to the tomato fields to shift the irrigation line up to the field top. We got the water running without a hitch, except that the priming crank broke off-- it's the bit that slowly pulls the air out of the 40ft suction pipe, inching the water up to the pump fan which drives the entire irrigation system. That means we couldn't stop the pump for the rest of the day, or else we wouldn't be able to get it started again. So we spun different water gates to divert the pressure while working out the kinks in the tomato line. Fixed up everything successfully-- then horsed around along the water guns, catching a brief break from the heat. It felt pretty damn good.
Either the boss or the foreman must have been feeling sadistic-- as they sent Newport, Stretch and I out to the lower fields to hand weed the 3 mature lettuce beds. We were prepared for death marching out to the field's center, but the job went surprisingly quick and pleasant. Finished just in time for lunch.
After lunch we had a big pow-wow behind the store-- Newport, the foreman and I sat around smoking as Viking and Jockey chatted around with us. For some ridiculous reason Jockey has harassed the Boss relentlessly into letting him try the fields-- tomorrow is Jockey's big chance. Of course tomorrow is supposed to be even hotter than today (100F+), so he grilled us endlessly: what should he wear, how much water would he need, what would we be doing. I decided a long time ago that everyone was a bit too hard on the kid, so I tried to answer all his questions and calm him down-- the fields aren't a death camp (despite what NYU told him). Viking made a big batch of limeade with a couple liters of seltzer instead of tap water-- tasted divine. At one point I noticed that Stretch was out hoeing the young lettuce by himself. Just then the boss pulled in.
He'd brought over a big shipment of spinach from a neighboring farm for the CSA today, so Newport, Jockey and I got busy bunching. Easy arrived and we helped him get the beans and greens out on the produce carts. The foreman took me aside-- he wanted the young lettuce fertilized with a 19-19-19 mix (% nitrogen, phosphorous, potash). I cut a few bag open and poured them into some buckets, then we headed out to give Stretch a hand (I brought some limeade for him out of pity).
We hoed out one bed of the young lettuce and I started sprinkling the fertilizer (very sparingly) while Newport and Stretch got started on the second young lettuce bed. We crept along for an hour and some. Just as I was about to finish fertilizing the first bed-- the foreman waved me out of the field. The broccoli and cauliflower we planted on the hilltop needed to be watered tomorrow, it was time to get the water gun line in place. The foreman had a wagon piled high with pipes hooked up to the tractor-- I climbed on top and we rolled up hill.
We reached the field and got to work. The foreman crawled the tractor and wagon along the travel road-- I lept up and down from the wagon laying out 3in water gun pipes, 3in blank pipes, a reducer pipe, 2in water guns and 2in blanks (then the end cap). Easy as pie, we'll attach the line up tomorrow. We rolled over to the former arugula field to steal a couple long 3in pipes and T-connectors to attach the cauliflower/broccoli line to the artery. We got everything in place and rolled back downhill, detaching the wagon at the hill-crest. Back at the greenhouse I hooked up the big rotor to the foreman's tractor and hoofed it back to the lettuce field.
Between the heat and humidity and work, I was a blanket of sweat/slop. Newport and Stretch were collapsed in the shade-- I joined them. They'd finished hoeing out all the young lettuce while I was off with the foreman, so only the fertilizing was left. After a good break we got out and spread the mix over all the beds. We staggered back to the farm store like dead men.
The CSA had been going for a good four hours, cars and families were everywhere. We hid in the cooler choking down ice cream cups full of water. The boss found us and shook his head-- small mercies-- he sent us out to pick blueberries by the cow pasture. He even drove us over in the van. The blueberries saved the day-- a cool wind blew over the grass and streams, the big bushes hid us from the sun. For a long time, Stretch, Newport and I picked at some berries while reclining in the bushes' shade. The cow herd was grazing 20ft away, the calves rolled around in the dirt and the muddy stream banks. We got serious and picked a trays worth of berries. One of the cows started howling, Newport and I walked over to check her out. Everything was fine. I made a stupid joke and Newport laughed to be polite-- felt like a moron the rest of the day.
Closing time came and we carried the full tray and berry buckets back to the farm store. The boss waved us home, he called to me-- after a cold 6 pack, you'll be all set for tomorrow.
Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. Tomorrow is the hot one, and Jockey's proving day. Well, my uncle is coming tonight for dinner and a few beers. Here's to tomorrow.
Drink up.
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