Two different days in one. This morning had clear skies and was in the upper 60Fs. The front started to pass over early this afternoon-- dark clouds (it's raining now) and low 50Fs.
I joined up with the foreman and Newport as they straightened up the store this morning. We filled up the tomato display and I did a little riding around in the tractor-- dumping off compost. I filled up the van with junk cardboard/trash bags for a dump run-- everything was all squared away. The three of us headed up to the potato fields on the hilltop and pulled all the remaining Red Norlands. We hacked away with the hoes until lunch.
Curve ball. Newport invited me back to his house-- he had loads of pork ribs leftover from a feast last night. I couldn't refuse. I met his two dogs and parakeet-- he loaded me up a plate. We slumped down in his basement to eat/joke around/watch Family Feud. The foreman came down and was more than a little surprised to see me. It was an uncomfortable meeting. I eased the tension slightly with a few sport anecdotes I'd filed away for just such an occasion. We ate up and argued over the television-- it was an eerily familiar hour. Back to work.
The air changed quickly with the oncoming weather system. Newport and the foreman rolled off to pick swiss chard and more potatoes-- I stayed behind. Today was Viking's one day of work, so we caught up on each others lives-- then made some blue berry/raspberry jam. I filled up the sinks out back and scrubbed/boxed up all the potatoes from yesterday and this morning (quite an undertaking).
While tied to the sink-- I noticed a few visitors. The boss's wife is a college professor and 2 van loads of environmental science students clambered out-- they looked like babies, pale and bundled up in hooded sweatshirts. The boss sat down with the group for a long talk and then gave them a tour around the farm-- I scrubbed more potatoes.
I managed to polish off all the wash work in a few hours. The college kids climbed back into their vans and headed off. The boss waddled over and we headed out to cut a few cases of mint (big beds are scattered among all the gardens and fields). Physical Therapy hasn't been kind to the boss-- we got a milk crate for him to set down on-- otherwise he could hardly bend over. We talked about the state of the season, but he was pre-occupied. Eventually he just got on with it and said-- so, I'm gonna keep you on into November-- with Bah let loose, someone has to prune all the berry canes and help the foreman get the fields cleared. I was happy to hear it-- half expected I wouldn't even get to work through the end of October. The boss straightened up a bit and seemed in better spirits.
While cutting the mint around the barn gardens-- we had more visitors. The boss's brother's dog died over night. It was only five years old but had acute liver failure and was put down-- very strange. The brother has a puppy, but the deceased dog was for breeding. Quite a loss. The brother had the dead dog in his tractor bucket as he puttered off to bury it-- his wife walked behind with the puppy. After they passed, the boss said-- you know, it's illegal to kill your own animals. He explained that animal protection laws make it illegal to kill/put down most farm animals except through the 'proper' channels. I guess that he meant his brother wanted to handle his dog himself. But the boss continued-- the law is a problem for many farmers, so they're trying to have it over turned. Horse breeders/owners are stuck with fields full of old unusable animals they cannot get rid of-- it's illegal in the US. Canada and other countries all have horse slaughterhouses that will buy the old animals for meat. Horses are expensive animals to buy/keep/feed, so selling them recoups some of the losses and puts the animal to use-- rather than just wasting away to death and eventually rotting into the ground. We got back to the mint.
We filled three crates full of mint bunches. The boss headed off to check up on Old Rudolpho, while I headed over to the boss's house to cut more mint and some sage. The clouds grew darker and the air colder. I filled one more crate 1/2 mint, 1/2 sage, before closing.
Time to get warm and hunt after Gizzie.
Take it easy.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Beginning of the Beginning
Full sun all day through. The temperature was in the mid 70Fs. Another cold front is moving in, bringing rain with it-- should hit tomorrow afternoon. The weather system isn't due to clear significantly until next week. When does the axe finally strike?
I hitched a ride in with Gizzie this morning. He made a few pit stops for cigarettes and breakfast-- we arrived ripely late. The store was mostly ready, but we finished culling out the bad tomatoes. Lots to do in preparation for the rain and cold. The warm weekend bought us another light round of picking but little more. Gizzie set about getting the van packed for today's big money market. The foreman took off on a road trip out of state-- he was picking up a bulk order of jam jars (we couldn't wait for delivery). So it was just me and Newport.
First up: we took the machete down to the lower fields and cut/bundled up cornstalks. The boss is donating a few hundred bunches to different churches/temples around town so they can be festively decorated for Fall. It was extremely fast work. After stowing away the stalks away, we grabbed buckets and headed up to the forest field-- one last lightning round of string bean picking. The rows were extremely lean-- few beans and no new flower buds. It took the entire double row of the yellow wax beans to fill 1/3 a bucket. The greens were coming out better-- we each filled half a bucket through the course of half a double row. We dumped off the beans with the daughter in the store, then it was time for pre-winter cleaning. We headed down into the pasture around the horse pond and disconnected/stacked up the galvanized steel irrigation pipes (unused since July/early August).The boss's brother wants to harrow out the crab grass and plant something more nutritious for horse grazing, so we dragged all the cinder blocks/logs/stones out of the way. It was lunch time.
I had a late lunch. I figured out a little arrangement to solve the problem of sun/air drying the onions Darlin and I picked Saturday. I laid out 10 plastic mesh trays, poured the onions in, sifted out the dirt and left them to bake in the sun.
Genius.
Just as I was about to sit down to my sandwich, the boss's brother hollered over-- the cows had escaped again. I ran with him across the street and saw 2 calves had escaped-- I blocked them off from the road as the brother scooted up from behind. It's almost a matter of course at this point: the calves went in without a problem. Lunch time.
Here's another picture. It's Lucy the boss's demon dog. I've told the story before, but she's the monster known to tear the wings off birds, grow bored and leave them to writhe to death. The boss chuckles and calls her Lucy-fer.
The foreman finally returned from his jar journey-- we headed to the forest fields again for one last sweep through the eggplant. Everything, any size, had to go-- still we narrowly filled 3 buckets.
We dropped off the eggplant at the store, then loaded up with buckets and hoes-- the great potato harvest begins. The foreman drove us up the hilltop and took out the field chart-- it's no longer a matter of how much we need (buckets per market/per CSA/per day), everything needs to get pulled from the ground. We picked one of the odd-ball varieties we haven't touched yet and got to work. I can't remember the name of the variety, but these were huge potatoes-- soft ball sized and larger. We hoed through the rest of the day-- filling 18 buckets with just the one variety. We finished the row just a little after closing.
All the potato buckets were stashed beneath the back awning, then I stacked all the onion racks into the store for safe keeping/dew protection. Whew. Homeward.
Drinking with Gizzie tonight? Hope so, I got a few dollars and a liver burning holes through my pockets.
Take it easy.
I hitched a ride in with Gizzie this morning. He made a few pit stops for cigarettes and breakfast-- we arrived ripely late. The store was mostly ready, but we finished culling out the bad tomatoes. Lots to do in preparation for the rain and cold. The warm weekend bought us another light round of picking but little more. Gizzie set about getting the van packed for today's big money market. The foreman took off on a road trip out of state-- he was picking up a bulk order of jam jars (we couldn't wait for delivery). So it was just me and Newport.
First up: we took the machete down to the lower fields and cut/bundled up cornstalks. The boss is donating a few hundred bunches to different churches/temples around town so they can be festively decorated for Fall. It was extremely fast work. After stowing away the stalks away, we grabbed buckets and headed up to the forest field-- one last lightning round of string bean picking. The rows were extremely lean-- few beans and no new flower buds. It took the entire double row of the yellow wax beans to fill 1/3 a bucket. The greens were coming out better-- we each filled half a bucket through the course of half a double row. We dumped off the beans with the daughter in the store, then it was time for pre-winter cleaning. We headed down into the pasture around the horse pond and disconnected/stacked up the galvanized steel irrigation pipes (unused since July/early August).The boss's brother wants to harrow out the crab grass and plant something more nutritious for horse grazing, so we dragged all the cinder blocks/logs/stones out of the way. It was lunch time.
I had a late lunch. I figured out a little arrangement to solve the problem of sun/air drying the onions Darlin and I picked Saturday. I laid out 10 plastic mesh trays, poured the onions in, sifted out the dirt and left them to bake in the sun.
Just as I was about to sit down to my sandwich, the boss's brother hollered over-- the cows had escaped again. I ran with him across the street and saw 2 calves had escaped-- I blocked them off from the road as the brother scooted up from behind. It's almost a matter of course at this point: the calves went in without a problem. Lunch time.
The foreman finally returned from his jar journey-- we headed to the forest fields again for one last sweep through the eggplant. Everything, any size, had to go-- still we narrowly filled 3 buckets.
We dropped off the eggplant at the store, then loaded up with buckets and hoes-- the great potato harvest begins. The foreman drove us up the hilltop and took out the field chart-- it's no longer a matter of how much we need (buckets per market/per CSA/per day), everything needs to get pulled from the ground. We picked one of the odd-ball varieties we haven't touched yet and got to work. I can't remember the name of the variety, but these were huge potatoes-- soft ball sized and larger. We hoed through the rest of the day-- filling 18 buckets with just the one variety. We finished the row just a little after closing.
All the potato buckets were stashed beneath the back awning, then I stacked all the onion racks into the store for safe keeping/dew protection. Whew. Homeward.
Drinking with Gizzie tonight? Hope so, I got a few dollars and a liver burning holes through my pockets.
Take it easy.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Lonely Onions
It has been a while. We narrowly dodged all of last week's frosts-- only a few pumpkin vines were nipped in the low lying areas. The cold front has been pushed out and we have a settled heat-- 80F over the weekend.
Friday was another straight picking day-- dawn to dusk. But, Darlin came up to visit for the weekend! And, what's more-- she came with me to work on Saturday and held her own out in the fields! She was excited about the whole thing. We arrived early and helped the foreman set up the CSA-- the lettuce was in rough shape and needed to be picked through, everything needed a lot more attention than usual. Darlin's sunny disposition melted all the ice-- the foreman was supremely friendly-- he chatted our ears off.
Gizzie was manning the store front and the boss was busy talking to the families-- so Darlin and I lit out to the onion fields. We pulled 11 buckets full of onions (Darlin was a natural-- fast and consistent). After talking with the boss and Gizzie, we headed up to the forest fields and cut the few eggplants that survived the cold (2 buckets of big/oriental/fairytale-- only 2). After stacking up some winter squash in the greenhouse we noticed the CSA hours had passed, so we packed everything up and went off for a day of fun. Darlin certainly needs to come work more often-- time flew by.
Today
Full sun without a cloud in the sky. The temperature burned at 80F all day through. It was heaven.
Today was a loose holiday, so both the foreman and Newport took the day off to be with their girlfriends-- it was just Me, Gizzie, the boss and Old Rudolpho. We got the store arranged and ready, hoping for a rush of holiday customers, but very few actually showed. I climbed into the tractor and dumped off a few front loaders full of compost-- then it was off to join Rudolpho in the hilltop tomatoes. This was my first time taking the tractor uphill-- not bad, but going over the small/narrow stone bridge was terrifying. One wrong twist of the wheel and the tractor would flip 7ft down into the big stream. I crawled along in the lowest gear possible.
I forgot to mention earlier, but Saturday was Old Rudolpho's Nephew's last day. His name is Marco and he's a good fella. His son is very sick and waiting to undergo a series of big operations-- so Marco sends all his pay back home to cover the bill. Darlin speaks Spanish-- so we finally got to have a real conversation with Marco and Old Rudolpho. When it was time for him to go-- I shook Marco's hand, 'See you next year' he said.
(I am learning to speak Spanish this winter)
It was just me and the old man on the hill top-- just us and the tomatoes. Old Rudolpho thought it was good that Darlin liked to work, he said she was a good woman and very pretty. We laughed and picked non-stop until lunch.
The boss kicked Gizzie out of the store, saying-- you're skin and bones, go get pizza with your friend. So we went and had pizza.
Endless tomatoes. Old Rudolpho and I make a pretty efficient team. We cleared the entire top field-- 74 full buckets total. I started carting them back to the barn with the tractor-- 20 some buckets at a time. The boss went off to a friend's barbecue after lunch-- so there were only the 3 of us left. But picking/packing the tomatoes wiped Old Rudolpho out, so he called it an early day. Only me and Gizzie remained.
A lot still needed to be done, but daylight was growing short. I took off and carted back the 11 buckets of onions that Darlin and I picked Saturday (the foreman must have forgotten them). Then I headed down to the trellised tomatoes/remainders of the big field, giving them a quick walk through. They were in rough shape-- I only filled 2 buckets over the course of 15 rows.
I stowed away the tractor for the night, then had a few long cigarettes with Gizzie out behind the store.
Homeward.
Asides:
Fall erupted this weekend-- the leaves started to turn en mass.
Had many drinks with Gizzie last night at "The End" bar (too many). I finally got around to asking my friend-- what he thought about joining up with me, moving down to the city over the winter. I told him just to think about it (lots of nitty-gritties to be sorted out)-- but he seemed interested. It would give us the chance to work on any number of the endless silly projects we've concocted between ourselves over the years/farm days.
There was a visitor today-- our friend Moats's father came to drop off a gift. He is an artist and has been sketching scenes around the farm-- he framed one and gave it to the boss. It's hanging up in the store, but I haven't gotten a chance to check it out yet. Mighty nice gesture-- didn't even realize that he'd started, much less finished, these farm pieces.
More, more, more to talk about, but I'm still getting my head all sorted after this weekend. We'll talk later in the week.
Take it easy.
Friday was another straight picking day-- dawn to dusk. But, Darlin came up to visit for the weekend! And, what's more-- she came with me to work on Saturday and held her own out in the fields! She was excited about the whole thing. We arrived early and helped the foreman set up the CSA-- the lettuce was in rough shape and needed to be picked through, everything needed a lot more attention than usual. Darlin's sunny disposition melted all the ice-- the foreman was supremely friendly-- he chatted our ears off.
Gizzie was manning the store front and the boss was busy talking to the families-- so Darlin and I lit out to the onion fields. We pulled 11 buckets full of onions (Darlin was a natural-- fast and consistent). After talking with the boss and Gizzie, we headed up to the forest fields and cut the few eggplants that survived the cold (2 buckets of big/oriental/fairytale-- only 2). After stacking up some winter squash in the greenhouse we noticed the CSA hours had passed, so we packed everything up and went off for a day of fun. Darlin certainly needs to come work more often-- time flew by.
Today
Full sun without a cloud in the sky. The temperature burned at 80F all day through. It was heaven.
Today was a loose holiday, so both the foreman and Newport took the day off to be with their girlfriends-- it was just Me, Gizzie, the boss and Old Rudolpho. We got the store arranged and ready, hoping for a rush of holiday customers, but very few actually showed. I climbed into the tractor and dumped off a few front loaders full of compost-- then it was off to join Rudolpho in the hilltop tomatoes. This was my first time taking the tractor uphill-- not bad, but going over the small/narrow stone bridge was terrifying. One wrong twist of the wheel and the tractor would flip 7ft down into the big stream. I crawled along in the lowest gear possible.
I forgot to mention earlier, but Saturday was Old Rudolpho's Nephew's last day. His name is Marco and he's a good fella. His son is very sick and waiting to undergo a series of big operations-- so Marco sends all his pay back home to cover the bill. Darlin speaks Spanish-- so we finally got to have a real conversation with Marco and Old Rudolpho. When it was time for him to go-- I shook Marco's hand, 'See you next year' he said.
(I am learning to speak Spanish this winter)
It was just me and the old man on the hill top-- just us and the tomatoes. Old Rudolpho thought it was good that Darlin liked to work, he said she was a good woman and very pretty. We laughed and picked non-stop until lunch.
The boss kicked Gizzie out of the store, saying-- you're skin and bones, go get pizza with your friend. So we went and had pizza.
Endless tomatoes. Old Rudolpho and I make a pretty efficient team. We cleared the entire top field-- 74 full buckets total. I started carting them back to the barn with the tractor-- 20 some buckets at a time. The boss went off to a friend's barbecue after lunch-- so there were only the 3 of us left. But picking/packing the tomatoes wiped Old Rudolpho out, so he called it an early day. Only me and Gizzie remained.
A lot still needed to be done, but daylight was growing short. I took off and carted back the 11 buckets of onions that Darlin and I picked Saturday (the foreman must have forgotten them). Then I headed down to the trellised tomatoes/remainders of the big field, giving them a quick walk through. They were in rough shape-- I only filled 2 buckets over the course of 15 rows.
I stowed away the tractor for the night, then had a few long cigarettes with Gizzie out behind the store.
Homeward.
Asides:
Fall erupted this weekend-- the leaves started to turn en mass.
Had many drinks with Gizzie last night at "The End" bar (too many). I finally got around to asking my friend-- what he thought about joining up with me, moving down to the city over the winter. I told him just to think about it (lots of nitty-gritties to be sorted out)-- but he seemed interested. It would give us the chance to work on any number of the endless silly projects we've concocted between ourselves over the years/farm days.
There was a visitor today-- our friend Moats's father came to drop off a gift. He is an artist and has been sketching scenes around the farm-- he framed one and gave it to the boss. It's hanging up in the store, but I haven't gotten a chance to check it out yet. Mighty nice gesture-- didn't even realize that he'd started, much less finished, these farm pieces.
More, more, more to talk about, but I'm still getting my head all sorted after this weekend. We'll talk later in the week.
Take it easy.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Lost 'Em in the Onions
Clear skies and sunny. The temperature was a cold 58% at its warmest.
Newport was busy seeing to some legal matters, so it was Gizzie, the foreman and me this morning. We stocked up the store and cleaned out the wagons for today's CSA (only a few more weeks left). The boss and I headed down to the greenhouse for winter squash-- but picking in the mud makes for messy fruits, every single one needed to be wiped down. So the boss and I cleaned up a loader full of butternut, one of buttercup and one of acorn squash. We talked over end of the season preparations, frost preparations and the like, Gizzie had told him that Darlin had been arrested-- so I gave him the story. He chuckled and said he understands-- it was much more common in his generation, he said, protesting is necessary: no one cares how people feel/what they want unless the powers that be are forced to reconcile. He was a little disappointed that me and Gizzie missed the big multi-state agro-fair-- it's a sight to see, he said. We had a lot of work to do in order to weather the deep frost tonight-- but picking/CSA always comes first.
I helped Gizzie arrange the CSA, today we had: 5 types of potatoes (Satina, Red Norlans, Red French Fingerlings, Yukon Golds and Kennebunks), butternut, buttercup, acorn squash, green/romaine lettuce (bought in), cabbage, big tomatoes, corn, fairytale/oriental/big eggplant, red/green/italian peppers, swiss chard, dinosaur/red boar kale and tiny ornamental pumpkins. I followed the boss out in the tractor to load up a few more bags of corn (15 bags)-- dumped some for the storefront, some for market and the rest for CSA. Gizzie and I hit the sinks to prep up 3 boxes of carrots for the store-- finished up just in time for lunch.
Gizzie and I were feeling a bit lazy today, so we dined like kings at the pizza place in town.
After lunch we bustled to get the compost/cardboard trash all dumped away, then we packed up Gizzie for market and sent him on his way. Newport was back and manically happy that all his legal concerns worked out for the best-- we swept up around the wagons and got things pretty. The greenhouse's back window had taken a bit of wind damage-- the plastic layering had torn loose from its bracing. We stretched everything back into place and nailed the whole mess up tight. Time to pick.
We grabbed 25 buckets and headed up hill. First up was the broccoli-- I focused on trimming back the over-mature buds/flowers as Newport/the foreman followed behind chopping the good stuff. We filled 8 buckets of broccoli. The cabbage was looking good (in places), so we hacked out 30 heads worth and packed the front loader. Finally, we turned to the tomato field. Frost is a fickle thing. Every degree around or below the 32F freezing point dictates just how screwed the plants will be. 33F-- not bad, things will recover fine. 32F-- not bad, things can recover with some nice sun. 31F-- bad, many plants die outright or their leaves are singed. 30F-- very bad, most plants die and leaves will be singed. 29F-- killer, almost all veggies die completely. So even 1/2 a degree makes a big difference. The hilltop tomatoes are positioned to do well, but all the same we culled through and picked 17 buckets worth of anything with the slightest color. Some tomatoes are better than none. This weekend is gonna be warm and beautiful, but we'll see what survives into tomorrow-- the heat might not make a difference.
As we loaded the tomatoes into the barn, the boss pulled up and called me over-- time for another tomato run. Old Rudolpho and his nephew had picked over the entire big field-- but only had 20 buckets to show. I loaded 'em into the van and it was back to the barn. Once the tomatoes were stowed away we closed up the barn and greenhouse-- day was done.
It is freezing-- the summer months have turned me soft. Maybe I'll go meet Gizzie for a late night drink, but then again-- it maybe too cold to move. Darlin is coming tomorrow to stay the weekend-- she's planning on working with me on the farm this Saturday. Should be pretty fine.
Take it easy.
Newport was busy seeing to some legal matters, so it was Gizzie, the foreman and me this morning. We stocked up the store and cleaned out the wagons for today's CSA (only a few more weeks left). The boss and I headed down to the greenhouse for winter squash-- but picking in the mud makes for messy fruits, every single one needed to be wiped down. So the boss and I cleaned up a loader full of butternut, one of buttercup and one of acorn squash. We talked over end of the season preparations, frost preparations and the like, Gizzie had told him that Darlin had been arrested-- so I gave him the story. He chuckled and said he understands-- it was much more common in his generation, he said, protesting is necessary: no one cares how people feel/what they want unless the powers that be are forced to reconcile. He was a little disappointed that me and Gizzie missed the big multi-state agro-fair-- it's a sight to see, he said. We had a lot of work to do in order to weather the deep frost tonight-- but picking/CSA always comes first.
I helped Gizzie arrange the CSA, today we had: 5 types of potatoes (Satina, Red Norlans, Red French Fingerlings, Yukon Golds and Kennebunks), butternut, buttercup, acorn squash, green/romaine lettuce (bought in), cabbage, big tomatoes, corn, fairytale/oriental/big eggplant, red/green/italian peppers, swiss chard, dinosaur/red boar kale and tiny ornamental pumpkins. I followed the boss out in the tractor to load up a few more bags of corn (15 bags)-- dumped some for the storefront, some for market and the rest for CSA. Gizzie and I hit the sinks to prep up 3 boxes of carrots for the store-- finished up just in time for lunch.
Gizzie and I were feeling a bit lazy today, so we dined like kings at the pizza place in town.
After lunch we bustled to get the compost/cardboard trash all dumped away, then we packed up Gizzie for market and sent him on his way. Newport was back and manically happy that all his legal concerns worked out for the best-- we swept up around the wagons and got things pretty. The greenhouse's back window had taken a bit of wind damage-- the plastic layering had torn loose from its bracing. We stretched everything back into place and nailed the whole mess up tight. Time to pick.
We grabbed 25 buckets and headed up hill. First up was the broccoli-- I focused on trimming back the over-mature buds/flowers as Newport/the foreman followed behind chopping the good stuff. We filled 8 buckets of broccoli. The cabbage was looking good (in places), so we hacked out 30 heads worth and packed the front loader. Finally, we turned to the tomato field. Frost is a fickle thing. Every degree around or below the 32F freezing point dictates just how screwed the plants will be. 33F-- not bad, things will recover fine. 32F-- not bad, things can recover with some nice sun. 31F-- bad, many plants die outright or their leaves are singed. 30F-- very bad, most plants die and leaves will be singed. 29F-- killer, almost all veggies die completely. So even 1/2 a degree makes a big difference. The hilltop tomatoes are positioned to do well, but all the same we culled through and picked 17 buckets worth of anything with the slightest color. Some tomatoes are better than none. This weekend is gonna be warm and beautiful, but we'll see what survives into tomorrow-- the heat might not make a difference.
As we loaded the tomatoes into the barn, the boss pulled up and called me over-- time for another tomato run. Old Rudolpho and his nephew had picked over the entire big field-- but only had 20 buckets to show. I loaded 'em into the van and it was back to the barn. Once the tomatoes were stowed away we closed up the barn and greenhouse-- day was done.
It is freezing-- the summer months have turned me soft. Maybe I'll go meet Gizzie for a late night drink, but then again-- it maybe too cold to move. Darlin is coming tomorrow to stay the weekend-- she's planning on working with me on the farm this Saturday. Should be pretty fine.
Take it easy.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Frosting
Sunny all day through. A cold front is finally pushing off the big rain rotation, but the temperature peaked in the low 60Fs and settled in the mid 50Fs. A light frost is due tonight-- tomorrow night, however, a serious frost is coming (they're calling for 29F overnight). It's time for the last hard rush.
The boss is still mulling over Viking's letter-- he talked with us a bit this morning about business. The foreman, Newport and I didn't have much to say-- the season is winding down fast and our only concern is working up enough dollars to last the winter. We saddled up the wagon to the tractor and rolled up the hilltop. It was a picking bonanza-- we filled the wagon with ever sugar pumpkin, and then piled up the front loader with all the acorn squash and a few stray buttercup.
Newport and I set up a little ground cover over one of the dead gardens around the store-- we piled it high with the sugar pumpkins. The foreman got himself into a predicament-- while dumping off the acorn squash into the greenhouse he forgot to shut the tractor's cab door (the glass shattered). Embarrassed as all hell he cleaned up every speck and offered to cover the repair costs. The accident aside-- the greenhouse is loaded with 3 mountains of squash, they're ready to weather out the frost.
It was time for some serious picking. The boss came with us down to the big gardens and we pulled 25 or so of the enormous novelty sized pumpkins. The biggest weighed 250lbs, and even the smallest was 90lbs. Using the tractor, we carted them out to the store front and plopped them all around the fence/gardens and roof posts. The sea of orange really brightens up the place. Lunch time.
Lunch was cut short when the wholesaler arrived-- 40 boxes going out. I started loading the 10lb boxes from the barn into the truck, when another big truck pulled in. It was a delivery of 500 more tomato shipping boxes (this 40 box shipment was all the cardboard we had left). The boss had 1000 boxes delivered earlier thi summer, so 10,000 lbs have gone to just the wholesaler-- an equal or greater amount headed to the markets/store/CSA. I think it's a fair guess that we cleared the 20,000lb or 22,000lb tomato marker so far this season. I scrubbed up yesterdays potatoes while waiting for the boys to get back from their lunch.
Off to the big pumpkin field. We rolled through the patch and once again filled the wagon and front loader to over flowing. There's next to nothing out there now, it looks pretty sad. You can always tell a season is almost dead when the pumpkins are outta the field. Back at the store, I climbed up the pumpkin mountain and hurled them down to the foreman and Newport. They arranged another sea of orange to surround the giant novelty pumpkins, cover the gardens over and stretch out along the parking lot. Newport and I hefted up the biggest monster pumpkin and propped it against a post, surrounding it/supporting it with the biggest green pumpkins we could find. Viking was covering the store today (her only shift now)-- she has some horrifying ideas for the monster. She might paint something, or-- her favorite idea-- hollow out the inside and cut it to look like a casket, then put a spooky doll inside. I laughed my head off-- just thinking of the endless irate parents we'd have to deal with.
Time to finish the potatoes. We crawled up the hilltop one last time and got busy pulling. We filled 4 buckets of Nikola and 4 buckets of the Reds. Big potatoes are a blessing, the buckets fill quick. We horsed around on the hill a while and then finally down to the store for scrubbing. My day ended early-- my mother needed a lift to the doctor's office-- so it was time to get going. I chatted with the boss and foreman for a few minutes, then got on my way.
I bet more emergency picking is in order tomorrow. Thursday's frost will be heavy. The peppers will die, the basil will die, the string beans will die and the eggplant will die. The tomatoes should be fine-- especially the young field on top of the hill (it stays warmer up there, as the cold settles in the valley-- the boss intentionally plants the late crops accordingly). The cherry tomatoes might be killed off -- they've grown too old to easily shrug off bad weather. All my secret berry hopes also die on Thursday-- whatever the weather afterward, the frost will end the raspberries. I'm not sure how the corn will weather, I'll have to ask the boss. It's back to cold weather crops and clean up work.
Take it easy.
The boss is still mulling over Viking's letter-- he talked with us a bit this morning about business. The foreman, Newport and I didn't have much to say-- the season is winding down fast and our only concern is working up enough dollars to last the winter. We saddled up the wagon to the tractor and rolled up the hilltop. It was a picking bonanza-- we filled the wagon with ever sugar pumpkin, and then piled up the front loader with all the acorn squash and a few stray buttercup.
Newport and I set up a little ground cover over one of the dead gardens around the store-- we piled it high with the sugar pumpkins. The foreman got himself into a predicament-- while dumping off the acorn squash into the greenhouse he forgot to shut the tractor's cab door (the glass shattered). Embarrassed as all hell he cleaned up every speck and offered to cover the repair costs. The accident aside-- the greenhouse is loaded with 3 mountains of squash, they're ready to weather out the frost.
It was time for some serious picking. The boss came with us down to the big gardens and we pulled 25 or so of the enormous novelty sized pumpkins. The biggest weighed 250lbs, and even the smallest was 90lbs. Using the tractor, we carted them out to the store front and plopped them all around the fence/gardens and roof posts. The sea of orange really brightens up the place. Lunch time.
Lunch was cut short when the wholesaler arrived-- 40 boxes going out. I started loading the 10lb boxes from the barn into the truck, when another big truck pulled in. It was a delivery of 500 more tomato shipping boxes (this 40 box shipment was all the cardboard we had left). The boss had 1000 boxes delivered earlier thi summer, so 10,000 lbs have gone to just the wholesaler-- an equal or greater amount headed to the markets/store/CSA. I think it's a fair guess that we cleared the 20,000lb or 22,000lb tomato marker so far this season. I scrubbed up yesterdays potatoes while waiting for the boys to get back from their lunch.
Off to the big pumpkin field. We rolled through the patch and once again filled the wagon and front loader to over flowing. There's next to nothing out there now, it looks pretty sad. You can always tell a season is almost dead when the pumpkins are outta the field. Back at the store, I climbed up the pumpkin mountain and hurled them down to the foreman and Newport. They arranged another sea of orange to surround the giant novelty pumpkins, cover the gardens over and stretch out along the parking lot. Newport and I hefted up the biggest monster pumpkin and propped it against a post, surrounding it/supporting it with the biggest green pumpkins we could find. Viking was covering the store today (her only shift now)-- she has some horrifying ideas for the monster. She might paint something, or-- her favorite idea-- hollow out the inside and cut it to look like a casket, then put a spooky doll inside. I laughed my head off-- just thinking of the endless irate parents we'd have to deal with.
Time to finish the potatoes. We crawled up the hilltop one last time and got busy pulling. We filled 4 buckets of Nikola and 4 buckets of the Reds. Big potatoes are a blessing, the buckets fill quick. We horsed around on the hill a while and then finally down to the store for scrubbing. My day ended early-- my mother needed a lift to the doctor's office-- so it was time to get going. I chatted with the boss and foreman for a few minutes, then got on my way.
I bet more emergency picking is in order tomorrow. Thursday's frost will be heavy. The peppers will die, the basil will die, the string beans will die and the eggplant will die. The tomatoes should be fine-- especially the young field on top of the hill (it stays warmer up there, as the cold settles in the valley-- the boss intentionally plants the late crops accordingly). The cherry tomatoes might be killed off -- they've grown too old to easily shrug off bad weather. All my secret berry hopes also die on Thursday-- whatever the weather afterward, the frost will end the raspberries. I'm not sure how the corn will weather, I'll have to ask the boss. It's back to cold weather crops and clean up work.
Take it easy.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
People of the Mud
Cold today. It started slightly sunny this morning, but the heavy clouds came at noon-- carried on an icy breeze. The rain started and hasn't let up. Temperature climbed down to 54F-- hung there all day.
Today was the big money market-- the outlook was bleak. But the boss had other concerns-- Gizzie and Newport packed together the market boxes, while the boss, foreman and I headed over to the pasture. More cows had escaped this morning. The woman who owns the horses(and boards at the boss's brother's house) rounded the cows out of the blueberry fields and back into the fence. We had some major fence repairs to do.
I'm pretty quick at tearing a fence apart (the weeks of re-fencing back in March taught me how to bash/rip with the best of 'em). We untangled all the broken barbed wire and I tore out all the iron staples (gotta be careful not to lose a single one-- the stupid cows eat 'em and slice their innards into confetti). I kicked and dragged out the broken fence posts-- then the foreman rolled up with the auger tractor and drilled new holes. We dropped the posts, tamped them in solid and hammered the staples back (holding the barbed wire in place). 10 posts needed replacing-- then we spliced together all the torn up wire. The boss cranked the wire around a corner post (getting the barbed wire nice and taut) and I bashed more staples into place. All done. Most of the herd was 20ft off watching us, groaning and calling back and forth-- Lucy ran around harassing the bull, good for her.
Before heading back to the store, the boss noticed one cow way out alone in the back fields. A bit concerned,we went to go check on things. But no need for worry-- she was with a freshly born calf. That makes 11-- every cow who could birth did. The boss was happy-- the mother was attentive (staring us down and circling close to the baby, a good sign), the calf was on its feet and strong. Driving back across the pasture we spotted an enormous coyote pacing along the wood's edge.
Back to the day's scheduled business. A frost warning is out for this Thursday. It's time to pull as much of everything as possible. Winter squash was up first. The foreman, Newport and I headed up the hill top to the butternut-- everything had to go. We cleared 8 rows before lunch. (We're piling the squash into mountains inside the greenhouse to protect it from the cold).
After lunch the foreman and I headed back up for more butternut-- Newport stayed behind to mind the store while the boss's daughter went to lunch. Mid way through the remaining squash rows the rain came. It took 4 full front loader trips to clear the field. Newport sauntered up to join us and we hit the buttercup. Old Rudolpho and his nephew were out picking tomatoes-- they fell asleep under a wagon, waiting for the rain to end.
We cleared all the buttercup-- taking everything, even the unripe-- it only took 2 full front loaders. Newport and I slogged through the mud to get a start pulling potatoes. CSA went through 16 buckets worth last week (and that barely tied them over), so this week we're getting 20 buckets. Hoeing through the mud is slow, heavy, miserable work. Covered head to toe in mud-- it became difficult to keep hold of the hoe's pole, the mud slicked and slid everywhere. We inched along-- got 3 1/2 buckets of red french fingerlings, 4 buckets of yukon golds and 4 buckets of Kennebunk. Small mercies-- it was closing time. So 8 buckets left for tomorrow.
We rode downhill, unloaded the potatoes and sunk home.
I got a lot of clean up/repair work to do tonight-- boots, pants, jackets, everything needs fixing.
Tomorrow's supposed to be sunny, here's hoping.
Take it easy.
Today was the big money market-- the outlook was bleak. But the boss had other concerns-- Gizzie and Newport packed together the market boxes, while the boss, foreman and I headed over to the pasture. More cows had escaped this morning. The woman who owns the horses(and boards at the boss's brother's house) rounded the cows out of the blueberry fields and back into the fence. We had some major fence repairs to do.
I'm pretty quick at tearing a fence apart (the weeks of re-fencing back in March taught me how to bash/rip with the best of 'em). We untangled all the broken barbed wire and I tore out all the iron staples (gotta be careful not to lose a single one-- the stupid cows eat 'em and slice their innards into confetti). I kicked and dragged out the broken fence posts-- then the foreman rolled up with the auger tractor and drilled new holes. We dropped the posts, tamped them in solid and hammered the staples back (holding the barbed wire in place). 10 posts needed replacing-- then we spliced together all the torn up wire. The boss cranked the wire around a corner post (getting the barbed wire nice and taut) and I bashed more staples into place. All done. Most of the herd was 20ft off watching us, groaning and calling back and forth-- Lucy ran around harassing the bull, good for her.
Before heading back to the store, the boss noticed one cow way out alone in the back fields. A bit concerned,we went to go check on things. But no need for worry-- she was with a freshly born calf. That makes 11-- every cow who could birth did. The boss was happy-- the mother was attentive (staring us down and circling close to the baby, a good sign), the calf was on its feet and strong. Driving back across the pasture we spotted an enormous coyote pacing along the wood's edge.
Back to the day's scheduled business. A frost warning is out for this Thursday. It's time to pull as much of everything as possible. Winter squash was up first. The foreman, Newport and I headed up the hill top to the butternut-- everything had to go. We cleared 8 rows before lunch. (We're piling the squash into mountains inside the greenhouse to protect it from the cold).
After lunch the foreman and I headed back up for more butternut-- Newport stayed behind to mind the store while the boss's daughter went to lunch. Mid way through the remaining squash rows the rain came. It took 4 full front loader trips to clear the field. Newport sauntered up to join us and we hit the buttercup. Old Rudolpho and his nephew were out picking tomatoes-- they fell asleep under a wagon, waiting for the rain to end.
We cleared all the buttercup-- taking everything, even the unripe-- it only took 2 full front loaders. Newport and I slogged through the mud to get a start pulling potatoes. CSA went through 16 buckets worth last week (and that barely tied them over), so this week we're getting 20 buckets. Hoeing through the mud is slow, heavy, miserable work. Covered head to toe in mud-- it became difficult to keep hold of the hoe's pole, the mud slicked and slid everywhere. We inched along-- got 3 1/2 buckets of red french fingerlings, 4 buckets of yukon golds and 4 buckets of Kennebunk. Small mercies-- it was closing time. So 8 buckets left for tomorrow.
We rode downhill, unloaded the potatoes and sunk home.
I got a lot of clean up/repair work to do tonight-- boots, pants, jackets, everything needs fixing.
Tomorrow's supposed to be sunny, here's hoping.
Take it easy.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Unexpected Marches
It was a big weekend.
I planned on writing up a post for Saturday, but things changed fast.
Here's a shot from the pilot's seat. I got a lot of tractor work done Saturday morning (once I reminded the boss that he'd taught me how to drive it). Picked up a couple loads of corn, dumped off a lot of trash and shifted around a few tons of sugar pumpkins. It was pouring rain all day through, so the mud driving was a little tricky (I can see now why the left and right wheel turning brakes are necessary). The CSA was pretty uneventful-- just a slow rainy day. I talked to Darlin-- she was headed to a political march in the city.
I headed home and puttered about repairing my boots, washing the work clothes and tending to my foot rot. Then things snow balled fast. Darlin sent me a series of terrified messages through her cell phone-- she was trapped on a bridge boxed in by riot police. We went back and forth as I tried to calm her down, she was justifiably panicked. Then the messages stopped. I was beside myself worrying. Hours passed as I chained cigarettes on the porch, calling every single person I knew in the city-- hoping somebody could tell me something, anything about what happened. Then news started to trickle through the internet-- 700 people arrested on the bridge where Darlin was trapped. I flipped into a frenzy.
I met Gizzie and his girlfriend for a drink we'd planned on all week. Except I couldn't sit around any longer. Gizzie bought me a beer as I told them what was itching me. I took my leave, packed a bag, grabbed a few hundred dollars out of the rainy day fund and got into the car-- I was going to the city. It was late, but I made arrangements with a good friend to crash at her apartment. I drove.
On the long highway I started to rethink the whole wild ride-- then I thought of Darlin handcuffed up in a prison cell somewhere. The thought nearly gave me a simultaneous heart attack and stroke from rage. No stops, no slowing down-- it was all speed, rage and every horrible possibility playing through my head.
I pulled into the city at 1:45am. I parked my car and ran to meet my friend-- tossed down my crap on her couch. She couldn't believe the situation was real, but said first things first. We headed over to a bar to cool my head with liquor and talk things over. My friend tried to take my mind off the panic-- but I stewed. I kept thinking-- here I am trying to comfort myself while Darlin's rotting/weeping in a cell somewhere. I couldn't handle the bar for another second-- sucked down my pint in a breath and stomped out. Then I finally got through to Darlin's father.
He'd found her and was at the precinct where she was being processed-- and best yet, she was due to be released within the hour. I ran to the subway, but didn't know where to go-- I'm no city man. Darlin's father called again, she was free and he said to meet at her apartment. It was 4:30am. I collected my things from my friend's apartment and we ran down to Darlin's street. We found an open store-- I bought ten bouquets of flowers and 2 of the classiest 6 packs of beer they had. All that was left was to wait. My friend and I camped out on Darlin's stoop.
After a half hour or so, they pulled up. I squeezed Darlin till she nearly broke. But she was fine and in fantastic spirits. The women in jail with her were sweethearts and it was more of a braiding/chatting party than a night in prison. I piled her with flowers-- we broke out the beers and toasted again and again. Darlin's father and I had a few cigarettes outside-- he'd received a message seconds before Darlin was arrested, he dropped everything and took off for the city too. He waited for 6 hours at the precinct while the police tried to figure out what to do with 700 people. It was good to see him and we were all smiles.
Darlin was exhausted, had a borderline case of hypothermia and starved. It was food, warmth and time for bed.
So Darlin was arrested for marching with the city. She was kettled in, quick-tied and left to sit in the rain on the bridge as the police fetched buses to ferry them off for processing. She and all the others waited in cells while the police figured out their business. Originally, all 700 were to receive criminal charges-- but it became apparent that the city didn't have the resources to manage such a fiasco (they're struggling as it is, hardly able to keep up with arrests/processing/paperwork/trials for serious crime). So they were all given traffic violation tickets. Whew-- it worked out somehow.
Darlin couldn't believe that I came down, though she seemed awful happy to see me. We spent Sunday patching her back together and talking everything over. Then it was time for me to get driving.
I got home around midnight-- just enough time to meet Gizzie for a late night drink. At "The End" bar, I told him everything that'd happened-- he seemed a bit overwhelmed by it all. We drank and went home.
Back to Work.
It started sunny this morning, then dark clouds and cold air blew in from the south. Temperature made the lower 70Fs before noon, but dipped hard to the upper 50Fs.
Newport was a mess this morning. He was pale as a ghost, sweaty and spitting out yellow oysters every other minute. The boss sent Newport home the second he laid eyes on him. The boss asked him-- what are you doing, coming in half alive like this? Newport sounded like a ghost when he said-- Just trying to keep the bills paid boss.
Gizzie, the foreman, Old Rudolpho, his nephew and I spent a few hours down in the barn polishing the last remaining buckets of tomatoes lingering from the weekend. Then it was time for picking. We all shipped up to the forest field to pick string beans. Gizzie and I set down in the wax beans, we crept along talking madness and bullshit-- we finished the long row just in time for lunch.
The boss's daughter was very upset at the store. We ate our sandwiches as she told us that her father had made her scrub potatoes-- she like that one bit and wanted us to do it instead. We laughed and kept eating. Fortunately fate intervened-- excusing us from being potato slaves.
The boss rolled up midway through lunch. He yelled us over, he said-- cows got out. Gizzie and I hopped into the back of the van and we sped over to the pasture.
I saw the big cow right away-- trotting off into the woods. Then I saw her calf laying down relaxing in the brush. We fanned out-- the boss and Gizzie stood between the cow/calf and the road, while I circled wide around them through the woods. The boss told me to take it slow and easy so as not to spook 'em into doing something crazy. I strolled over logs and though a marsh, then drove the mama cow back toward the gate. Everything was going so well--until the calf got spooked. It took off toward the boss and Gizzie, doubled back toward me in a panic and then leaped through the barbed wire fence. This was my first time wrangling cows-- in the Spring I kicked them away from bonfires, but that was pretty straight forward. I should have ran at the mama cow-- getting her mind off the calf and driving her to the gate. Instead, I kept up my fast stroll
trying not to spook it-- the mama took off after the calf. Leaping straight into the barbed wire fence. A calf is spry and small-- a cow is not. She tore through, but her hind legs got jumbled in the wire. The cow kicked and struggled. After some tense minutes, she gave another leap and broke free.
The boss was pissed. Luckily the fence wasn't broken and the cow was only scratched up a little. He told me I should have run, so now I know.
Back at the store, Gizzie and I grabbed buckets, then headed back to the beans. We finished the wax and started the green beans. With Old Rudolpho, his nephew and the foreman we cleared the rows in a few more hours' picking. Onto the next order of business.
We loaded 50 buckets into the tractor and rode up to the hilltop-- it was tomato time. I chatted with the foreman for a bit as we looked over the broccoli, cabbage and brussel sprouts (doesn't look like they'll grow fast enough for a crop, just like last year). Then to business. We filled the 50 buckets easily, the foreman grabbed another 20 and we marched the rows until closing time.
The sun is sinking earlier and earlier. The cold is settling down for longer. It sure is Fall.
What a series of days it has been. Nothing to do but hunker down and pull hard until the season's close. We all know our time is coming soon enough-- not enough to do over winter for all of us. So it's time to plan and wait.
Take it easy.
I planned on writing up a post for Saturday, but things changed fast.
I headed home and puttered about repairing my boots, washing the work clothes and tending to my foot rot. Then things snow balled fast. Darlin sent me a series of terrified messages through her cell phone-- she was trapped on a bridge boxed in by riot police. We went back and forth as I tried to calm her down, she was justifiably panicked. Then the messages stopped. I was beside myself worrying. Hours passed as I chained cigarettes on the porch, calling every single person I knew in the city-- hoping somebody could tell me something, anything about what happened. Then news started to trickle through the internet-- 700 people arrested on the bridge where Darlin was trapped. I flipped into a frenzy.
I met Gizzie and his girlfriend for a drink we'd planned on all week. Except I couldn't sit around any longer. Gizzie bought me a beer as I told them what was itching me. I took my leave, packed a bag, grabbed a few hundred dollars out of the rainy day fund and got into the car-- I was going to the city. It was late, but I made arrangements with a good friend to crash at her apartment. I drove.
On the long highway I started to rethink the whole wild ride-- then I thought of Darlin handcuffed up in a prison cell somewhere. The thought nearly gave me a simultaneous heart attack and stroke from rage. No stops, no slowing down-- it was all speed, rage and every horrible possibility playing through my head.
I pulled into the city at 1:45am. I parked my car and ran to meet my friend-- tossed down my crap on her couch. She couldn't believe the situation was real, but said first things first. We headed over to a bar to cool my head with liquor and talk things over. My friend tried to take my mind off the panic-- but I stewed. I kept thinking-- here I am trying to comfort myself while Darlin's rotting/weeping in a cell somewhere. I couldn't handle the bar for another second-- sucked down my pint in a breath and stomped out. Then I finally got through to Darlin's father.
He'd found her and was at the precinct where she was being processed-- and best yet, she was due to be released within the hour. I ran to the subway, but didn't know where to go-- I'm no city man. Darlin's father called again, she was free and he said to meet at her apartment. It was 4:30am. I collected my things from my friend's apartment and we ran down to Darlin's street. We found an open store-- I bought ten bouquets of flowers and 2 of the classiest 6 packs of beer they had. All that was left was to wait. My friend and I camped out on Darlin's stoop.
After a half hour or so, they pulled up. I squeezed Darlin till she nearly broke. But she was fine and in fantastic spirits. The women in jail with her were sweethearts and it was more of a braiding/chatting party than a night in prison. I piled her with flowers-- we broke out the beers and toasted again and again. Darlin's father and I had a few cigarettes outside-- he'd received a message seconds before Darlin was arrested, he dropped everything and took off for the city too. He waited for 6 hours at the precinct while the police tried to figure out what to do with 700 people. It was good to see him and we were all smiles.
Darlin was exhausted, had a borderline case of hypothermia and starved. It was food, warmth and time for bed.
So Darlin was arrested for marching with the city. She was kettled in, quick-tied and left to sit in the rain on the bridge as the police fetched buses to ferry them off for processing. She and all the others waited in cells while the police figured out their business. Originally, all 700 were to receive criminal charges-- but it became apparent that the city didn't have the resources to manage such a fiasco (they're struggling as it is, hardly able to keep up with arrests/processing/paperwork/trials for serious crime). So they were all given traffic violation tickets. Whew-- it worked out somehow.
Darlin couldn't believe that I came down, though she seemed awful happy to see me. We spent Sunday patching her back together and talking everything over. Then it was time for me to get driving.
I got home around midnight-- just enough time to meet Gizzie for a late night drink. At "The End" bar, I told him everything that'd happened-- he seemed a bit overwhelmed by it all. We drank and went home.
Back to Work.
It started sunny this morning, then dark clouds and cold air blew in from the south. Temperature made the lower 70Fs before noon, but dipped hard to the upper 50Fs.
Newport was a mess this morning. He was pale as a ghost, sweaty and spitting out yellow oysters every other minute. The boss sent Newport home the second he laid eyes on him. The boss asked him-- what are you doing, coming in half alive like this? Newport sounded like a ghost when he said-- Just trying to keep the bills paid boss.
Gizzie, the foreman, Old Rudolpho, his nephew and I spent a few hours down in the barn polishing the last remaining buckets of tomatoes lingering from the weekend. Then it was time for picking. We all shipped up to the forest field to pick string beans. Gizzie and I set down in the wax beans, we crept along talking madness and bullshit-- we finished the long row just in time for lunch.
The boss's daughter was very upset at the store. We ate our sandwiches as she told us that her father had made her scrub potatoes-- she like that one bit and wanted us to do it instead. We laughed and kept eating. Fortunately fate intervened-- excusing us from being potato slaves.
The boss rolled up midway through lunch. He yelled us over, he said-- cows got out. Gizzie and I hopped into the back of the van and we sped over to the pasture.
I saw the big cow right away-- trotting off into the woods. Then I saw her calf laying down relaxing in the brush. We fanned out-- the boss and Gizzie stood between the cow/calf and the road, while I circled wide around them through the woods. The boss told me to take it slow and easy so as not to spook 'em into doing something crazy. I strolled over logs and though a marsh, then drove the mama cow back toward the gate. Everything was going so well--until the calf got spooked. It took off toward the boss and Gizzie, doubled back toward me in a panic and then leaped through the barbed wire fence. This was my first time wrangling cows-- in the Spring I kicked them away from bonfires, but that was pretty straight forward. I should have ran at the mama cow-- getting her mind off the calf and driving her to the gate. Instead, I kept up my fast stroll
trying not to spook it-- the mama took off after the calf. Leaping straight into the barbed wire fence. A calf is spry and small-- a cow is not. She tore through, but her hind legs got jumbled in the wire. The cow kicked and struggled. After some tense minutes, she gave another leap and broke free.
The boss was pissed. Luckily the fence wasn't broken and the cow was only scratched up a little. He told me I should have run, so now I know.
Back at the store, Gizzie and I grabbed buckets, then headed back to the beans. We finished the wax and started the green beans. With Old Rudolpho, his nephew and the foreman we cleared the rows in a few more hours' picking. Onto the next order of business.
We loaded 50 buckets into the tractor and rode up to the hilltop-- it was tomato time. I chatted with the foreman for a bit as we looked over the broccoli, cabbage and brussel sprouts (doesn't look like they'll grow fast enough for a crop, just like last year). Then to business. We filled the 50 buckets easily, the foreman grabbed another 20 and we marched the rows until closing time.
The sun is sinking earlier and earlier. The cold is settling down for longer. It sure is Fall.
What a series of days it has been. Nothing to do but hunker down and pull hard until the season's close. We all know our time is coming soon enough-- not enough to do over winter for all of us. So it's time to plan and wait.
Take it easy.
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