Snowed out yesterday, boss called early and said don't bother getting out of bed. Fiddled away the day getting things straightened out-- then chopped up a few logs to stock up the fireplace for the weekend. Only took one day without work to drive me crazy. Pretty rough sign of things to come-- maybe a week or so left. Met up with Gizzie at "The End" bar around midnight to polish up a few more scripts-- a few of 'em are looking pretty damn good.
Today
Sunny all day through, but took most of the day to warm up-- a good inch or two of snow covered the fields (most melted away by one or two in the afternoon). Cold winds, cold air. The temperature hung at 34F all morning-- afternoon high managed to reach 45F.
Rough jobs today, but they passed mostly pleasant. Started off with the foreman clearing away the last tractor attachments and bits of machinery surrounding the greenhouse (gotta be wide open before any serious snow). The real business began soon after-- Gizzie and I sharpened an edge to the maul and started whacking away at the lumber pile. As I might of mentioned before, the boss lives in his underground bungalow-- so he's pretty heat efficient, only takes a wood stove to keep him and his family through winter. But it certainly takes a good load of wood. Gizzie and I traded back and forth-- one chopping, one rolling in new logs. Many cigarettes and bullshit was had. We filled the tractor's front loader up three times before lunch (and the foreman hauled each load off to the boss's wood shed).
Swinging an ax takes a lot outta ya.
Things changed after lunch. Chopping was fine enough, but the boss had other plans. With the snow mostly melted he figured that Newport and I should get started on pulling the plastic wrap outta the fields. Sad work. We started with the closest field-- the late season zucchini/squash/pickling cukes/2nd cantaloupe rows running alongside the greenhouse. First things first-- we hoed up the soil along either side of each row. Then we got down on our knees and pulled the wrap out-- fistful by fistful. Wind, weather, picking, vermin and planting has shredded up most of the plastic-mulch-sheets by now-- all the same, progress was slow.
The boss and the foreman continued on splitting wood, Gizzie baked out a few pies/cooked the last round of tomato sauce in the kitchen-- Newport and I kept on with the plastic through the rest of the day. In five hours we manged to clear 8 rows worth. Not much at all. Told Newport-- hell, at this rate we'll still have a job into next weekend. Plastic wrap left: 2 rows in the 2nd cantaloupe, 25 long tomato rows, 23 short rows of cherry tomatoes, 3 rows of basil, 5 peppers, 3 eggplant, 3 long summer squash/zucchini/patty pan, then also the cucumber and the pickling cuke rows up in the forest fields. 68 plastic rows (of varying length) to go.
Muddy day ended just in time. Half frozen, we joined up with the boss and foreman to stack the last load of firewood. Day was done.
On the bus now, on my way to Darlin for the weekend. We'll see what next week brings. There's another storm due this Saturday, the numbers are all over the place, but some claim up to 6-10 inches will fall. That complicates things. We still don't have a thorough frost, so once everything melts off we can continue ripping up plastic-- if it melts off. Either way-- I can't pull up what I can't see, so the boss said (depending on the snowfall) take a long weekend and see Darlin. Can't argue with that. The plastic will still be there waiting when I get back.
Off to it then. Take it easy.
Friday, October 28, 2011
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Slow Down Willy Boy
Lousy weather today, worse promised for tomorrow. Spotty rain and mist this morning gave way to cold dry clouds in the afternoon. The highest temperature today was 45F.
Late start this morning-- had to go to my doctor appointment. And so far so good-- now I know what I don't have: it's probably not a tetanus infection or the flu. To be safe he gave me the flu shot and a tetanus/whooping cough vaccine-- he also took some big blood samples to run by the lab. Unfortunately I'm a high risk case for Lyme disease-- so crossed fingers waiting on those test results.
After the appointment I pulled on my boots and got to work.
Clean up day. Pulled in and gave Newport a hand cleaning up the produce wagons/yard. All the remaining tomatoes have been piled into the store displays-- so we joined the foreman in clearing/cleaning out the entire workshop/storage area of the barn. Spotless. We wheeled down all the produce wagons, extra tables and market tents. Everything needed to be organized-- shipping supplies all in one place, tools in another, extra cardboard elsewhere, etc, etc. Newport and I climbed up through the barn and cleaned up the general supply 'area'-- then we dragged up all the salvageable pick crates and bushel boxes/baskets. The greenhouse was next-- all the steel/iron cultivator drags and odd pipe pieces needed to be stacked inside and organized. The boss brought down 20 some bushel boxes-- we sifted through the remaining winter squash and made two piles. One: perfect-ish squash we might be able to sell (got 1 box of butternut, 3 buttercup), Two: less that perfect squash to donate to the local food bank (10 boxes of butternut, 6 boxes of buttercup). The remaining squash were junk and headed to the compost. The foreman and I got busy making tractor trips back and forth, loading all the tractor's attachments into the barn (the water pump, seeder, fertilizer spreader, spray tanks all had to be inside). Lunch time.
Had a 15 minute lunch and then watched the store for the boss.
Back to work. Newport and I took down the back awning and folded it up-- took it and all the other loose tarps into the barn. We swept up the back area, put away all the dollies and stuffed back the trash cans. The foreman came back from lunch and we started the heavy work. The three of us stomped through the tomato fields and dragged out all the irrigation piping-- the 4in arteries and 2in water gun lines were stacked up along the side of the store. Newport and I wrestled out the big acre-sized gun-- hefting it up alongside the pipe pile. The foreman brought round the tractor and wagon-- time to pull the tomato trellises. We headed down to the bottom of the tomato field and began the painstaking process of separating, untangling and coiling up all the lengths of wire. After kicking out the stakes, the dog work began. The foreman inched along the tractor while Newport/I kicked each trellis post loose, ripped it from the ground and tossed them into the front loader. It took 5 full bucket loads of posts to clear the field-- hard, but quick work.
Newport and I stomped up to the forest field to deal with the forgotten 2nd round cherry tomatoes. Newport was bitter-- he and the foreman had planted the tomatoes and sunk in the posts, except things got busy. We never got around to wiring up the plants or even picking them-- the cherries just grew wild and rotted. It was a shame. We staggered down the line and kicked out a front loader's worth of posts and tossed on the unused coils of wire. And that was it.
Newport was inches away from a panic attack all day as bill collectors phoned him up one after another reminding him of missed payments. After one call too many he threw down a few coils of wire and just started yelling, then he said-- I just don't know what the hell they expect, it's the middle of a recession and I know what I don't have, but this is too much. I fed Newport cigarettes as he sulked about trying to avoid the foreman-- they were at each others throats about something. Pulling out the posts evened things out a bit-- everyone was fine by the time we all sat around the store chatting with the boss about tomorrow. Weatherman is calling for heavy rains tonight through tomorrow, then afternoon snow flurries. All the inside work is completely finished, so we're all waiting on the phone call tomorrow-- waiting to see if we get to work/get paid. Lots of field clean up remains, but this is it-- the final stretch.
Might not work through the end of next week. Gizzie could be let go even sooner. This season flipped off like a light switch-- it's all ending much too fast. Can hardly make sense of it and wrap my head around what comes next.
Take it easy.
Late start this morning-- had to go to my doctor appointment. And so far so good-- now I know what I don't have: it's probably not a tetanus infection or the flu. To be safe he gave me the flu shot and a tetanus/whooping cough vaccine-- he also took some big blood samples to run by the lab. Unfortunately I'm a high risk case for Lyme disease-- so crossed fingers waiting on those test results.
After the appointment I pulled on my boots and got to work.
Clean up day. Pulled in and gave Newport a hand cleaning up the produce wagons/yard. All the remaining tomatoes have been piled into the store displays-- so we joined the foreman in clearing/cleaning out the entire workshop/storage area of the barn. Spotless. We wheeled down all the produce wagons, extra tables and market tents. Everything needed to be organized-- shipping supplies all in one place, tools in another, extra cardboard elsewhere, etc, etc. Newport and I climbed up through the barn and cleaned up the general supply 'area'-- then we dragged up all the salvageable pick crates and bushel boxes/baskets. The greenhouse was next-- all the steel/iron cultivator drags and odd pipe pieces needed to be stacked inside and organized. The boss brought down 20 some bushel boxes-- we sifted through the remaining winter squash and made two piles. One: perfect-ish squash we might be able to sell (got 1 box of butternut, 3 buttercup), Two: less that perfect squash to donate to the local food bank (10 boxes of butternut, 6 boxes of buttercup). The remaining squash were junk and headed to the compost. The foreman and I got busy making tractor trips back and forth, loading all the tractor's attachments into the barn (the water pump, seeder, fertilizer spreader, spray tanks all had to be inside). Lunch time.
Had a 15 minute lunch and then watched the store for the boss.
Back to work. Newport and I took down the back awning and folded it up-- took it and all the other loose tarps into the barn. We swept up the back area, put away all the dollies and stuffed back the trash cans. The foreman came back from lunch and we started the heavy work. The three of us stomped through the tomato fields and dragged out all the irrigation piping-- the 4in arteries and 2in water gun lines were stacked up along the side of the store. Newport and I wrestled out the big acre-sized gun-- hefting it up alongside the pipe pile. The foreman brought round the tractor and wagon-- time to pull the tomato trellises. We headed down to the bottom of the tomato field and began the painstaking process of separating, untangling and coiling up all the lengths of wire. After kicking out the stakes, the dog work began. The foreman inched along the tractor while Newport/I kicked each trellis post loose, ripped it from the ground and tossed them into the front loader. It took 5 full bucket loads of posts to clear the field-- hard, but quick work.
Newport and I stomped up to the forest field to deal with the forgotten 2nd round cherry tomatoes. Newport was bitter-- he and the foreman had planted the tomatoes and sunk in the posts, except things got busy. We never got around to wiring up the plants or even picking them-- the cherries just grew wild and rotted. It was a shame. We staggered down the line and kicked out a front loader's worth of posts and tossed on the unused coils of wire. And that was it.
Newport was inches away from a panic attack all day as bill collectors phoned him up one after another reminding him of missed payments. After one call too many he threw down a few coils of wire and just started yelling, then he said-- I just don't know what the hell they expect, it's the middle of a recession and I know what I don't have, but this is too much. I fed Newport cigarettes as he sulked about trying to avoid the foreman-- they were at each others throats about something. Pulling out the posts evened things out a bit-- everyone was fine by the time we all sat around the store chatting with the boss about tomorrow. Weatherman is calling for heavy rains tonight through tomorrow, then afternoon snow flurries. All the inside work is completely finished, so we're all waiting on the phone call tomorrow-- waiting to see if we get to work/get paid. Lots of field clean up remains, but this is it-- the final stretch.
Might not work through the end of next week. Gizzie could be let go even sooner. This season flipped off like a light switch-- it's all ending much too fast. Can hardly make sense of it and wrap my head around what comes next.
Take it easy.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Sporadic
This is the final stretch. Unfortunately my health hit the skids Sunday night-- woke up Monday and couldn't get out of bed. Slept 20 hours through to today and decided to give work a go. I gotta admit-- feeling a bit strange, not sick in any conventional sense. Lined up a doctor's appointment for tomorrow, gonna have some blood work done. I don't wanna say it, but Lyme disease could be a possibility. Ugh, ugh, ugh.
Otherwise, the weekend was great. Darlin came up to visit-- we met up with Gizzie and went to our friend's 30th birthday party. It was a riot of a time-- our friend packed an entire Elk's Lodge with friends and family. Darlin and I cooked up a big farm feast for Saturday dinner, and then took it easy.
This week is shaping up to be a mess. Rain tomorrow, rain/snow on Thursday. There isn't much to do inside anymore, so the boss is gonna call everyone if he needs us. Last Friday marked the beginning of field clean up-- we pruned back all the blackberries along the lower fields.
Today
Full sun all day through-- lots of cold winds blowing. The cold has settled in to stay-- temperature hardly inched above 52F.
Today was a straight work day. Gizzie and the daughter got the van all packed for the final big money market, then they took off. Newport, the foreman and I rolled up to the blackberry rows along the hilltop-- we pruned all day through. Finished up the final stretch just before closing.
Over the season the blackberry canes grow thick-- their root systems toss up tons of extra shoots and create a veritable wall of plant matter. While that's great for berry production, it's bad for weathering the plant through the winter. The jumbled canes offers an ideal nesting area for all types of rodents-- who will consume/kill the berry canes for sustenance. So we clear the drooping/dying/poorly positioned branches out of the rows-- leaving 3-4 good canes per root cluster. There's more blackberry plants butchered and tossed into the tractor rows now than there are still in the ground.
I chatted with the boss a long time before going home. Talk turned to next year-- many plans to do things better. Business has lurched to a complete stand still-- CSA is over, hardly two or three customers show at the store on a given day. Doesn't look like we'll have the money to plant a cover crop over winter-- can't afford the seed much less the labor to plant it. The state of things is clear-- once the clean up work is over Newport, Gizzie and I are all let go. But next year-- the boss has endless plans to do things better: fewer unnecessary summer helpers, more fully planted fields and, hopefully, better weather for growing.
The boss is really thinking about doing a block of barley/hops next year-- he wants to get a production license and brew beer. As a kick off/send off, the boss wants to take all of us (Newport, Gizzie, the foreman and me) to a local microbrewery-- to sample the goods, celebrate the year and get ideas for making beer next year. Sounds more than perfect to me.
Looks like I could have a few unwanted days off this week. If that's the case I'll still be here-- talking over some of the farm issues/accoutrements there hasn't been time to address.
Take it easy and here's hoping it's not lyme disease.
Otherwise, the weekend was great. Darlin came up to visit-- we met up with Gizzie and went to our friend's 30th birthday party. It was a riot of a time-- our friend packed an entire Elk's Lodge with friends and family. Darlin and I cooked up a big farm feast for Saturday dinner, and then took it easy.
This week is shaping up to be a mess. Rain tomorrow, rain/snow on Thursday. There isn't much to do inside anymore, so the boss is gonna call everyone if he needs us. Last Friday marked the beginning of field clean up-- we pruned back all the blackberries along the lower fields.
Today
Full sun all day through-- lots of cold winds blowing. The cold has settled in to stay-- temperature hardly inched above 52F.
Today was a straight work day. Gizzie and the daughter got the van all packed for the final big money market, then they took off. Newport, the foreman and I rolled up to the blackberry rows along the hilltop-- we pruned all day through. Finished up the final stretch just before closing.
Over the season the blackberry canes grow thick-- their root systems toss up tons of extra shoots and create a veritable wall of plant matter. While that's great for berry production, it's bad for weathering the plant through the winter. The jumbled canes offers an ideal nesting area for all types of rodents-- who will consume/kill the berry canes for sustenance. So we clear the drooping/dying/poorly positioned branches out of the rows-- leaving 3-4 good canes per root cluster. There's more blackberry plants butchered and tossed into the tractor rows now than there are still in the ground.
I chatted with the boss a long time before going home. Talk turned to next year-- many plans to do things better. Business has lurched to a complete stand still-- CSA is over, hardly two or three customers show at the store on a given day. Doesn't look like we'll have the money to plant a cover crop over winter-- can't afford the seed much less the labor to plant it. The state of things is clear-- once the clean up work is over Newport, Gizzie and I are all let go. But next year-- the boss has endless plans to do things better: fewer unnecessary summer helpers, more fully planted fields and, hopefully, better weather for growing.
The boss is really thinking about doing a block of barley/hops next year-- he wants to get a production license and brew beer. As a kick off/send off, the boss wants to take all of us (Newport, Gizzie, the foreman and me) to a local microbrewery-- to sample the goods, celebrate the year and get ideas for making beer next year. Sounds more than perfect to me.
Looks like I could have a few unwanted days off this week. If that's the case I'll still be here-- talking over some of the farm issues/accoutrements there hasn't been time to address.
Take it easy and here's hoping it's not lyme disease.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Near Empty
Wild weather changes. Steady rain and thick fog this morning, but a new weather system pushed in around noon time. The rain stopped, the sun burned off the fog and within 10 minutes it was a full on sunny day. Temperature started in the low 50Fs but rose to upper 60Fs with the sun.
Today was the last big picking day-- there's nothing left now. I rolled into the farm a few minutes late this morning and gave Gizzie a hand straightening up the store. We loaded up the trash and started cleaning around the produce wagons when Newport and the foreman finally drove up-- real late. The foreman had another car accident-- he was fine, but the repairs are going to be a fortune and an endless problem.
First up was the cabbage. We headed to the hilltop and filled 6 boxes with everything left. Dumped off the cabbage heads at the store and took off to the lower fields-- next was the final round of kale. This time, instead of picking off good leaves, we chopped the good 'tops' off each plant and bunched them as they were. Filled 4 crates of dinosaur and 3 crates of red bore. The foreman's arugula in the center of the lower fields looked ready-- so we inched along and over 2/3 of the triple row: we filled 8 crates.
Time for lunch and drying out.
After lunch we headed back to the lower fields and filled 5 sopping wet sacks with corn. Not much of anything is left anywhere. CSA was starting soon, so we washed up all the greens and filled up the wagon displays. Saturday is the last CSA pick up of the year, only the store and a few market's are left after that. Today we had: 5 types of potatoes (Red Norlands, Yukon Golds, Satinas, Keuka Golds and Kennebunks), red bore/dinosaur kale, butternut/buttercup squash, big tomatoes, corn, broccoli, arugula, green peppers, beets and cabbage-- lots of everything, but the variety has slimmed down. The boss was scratching his head trying to think of more for us to do: One last big haul-- the foreman, Newport and I tractored up to the forest field and cleared the last row of beets. We took everything, but sorted them 2 ways-- the few big beets were bound and bunched, the many tiny beets were clipped down and boxed. Managed to get 1 crate of bunches and 4 big boxes of loose beets.
That was it. We returned to the farm, washed the beets and just stood around. Newport took off early to go to a hockey game with his girlfriend, the foreman flipped through a seed catalog in the store and Gizzie was tied up making jam in the kitchen. I hopped in and lent Gizzie a hand pouring in the pectin, so the jam would set properly, but after that there was nothing left in the fields.
Well almost nothing. I clamored up into the tractor and drove into the remains of the brother's big pumpkin garden-- time for the last of the giants to make their way up to the storefront. I heaved 4 front loaders worth up the hill and arranged them as best as I could manage. Looking for busy work, I took the tractor down to the greenhouse and sorted all the rotten squash out of the piles-- filled an entire front loader with the rot. I dumped it all in the compost heap, returned the tractor and waited the rest of the day away.
I sat down with the boss before the day's end-- tomorrow begins the field clean up work. The days of picking are truly over (although, I swear there has to be more potatoes up on the hill). It's scary stuff.
The foreman came over at closing time and asked if I could give him a lift to the auto-body shop, where his car was being repaired. I said, of course. We chatted on the way-- this weekend is the big one for him. It's a quiet secret that the foreman is hoping to move on this winter. He's been talking to several farms around the city who are looking for a field manager. He wants both worlds-- living with his girlfriend in the city and working for a good farm wage. This weekend he's going to meet one of the farmers.
And maybe it is about time for him to move on-- he's been working this farm with the boss for the past 8 years. But all of this really has me thinking. I'm not blind to all that's been happening this summer-- I've been groomed to take the foreman's place. The boss has been teaching me field layouts, planting/watering times and cycles, he's got me in the tractor and out taking apart pumps/machinery. I just don't know. Talking with Darlin, I keep trying to make up my mind-- cause I'm moving to the city over the winter too. The question is: whether I'm staying there in Spring or coming back to be foreman. And I have got no answer yet.
I love this job, and that's no secret. I'm pretty good at it and there's much more to learn. The boss is an unusually good man and I owe him my sanity-- this job caught me right before I teetered off the edge from unemployment into crazy. But then there's Darlin, friends, writing and many things waiting down in the city. Hm. I would miss the brush burning and planting in Spring, long Summer and Fall harvests.
But I keep coming back to that line from Thoreau-- "It was time that I left Walden, for there were other lives to lead."
Darlin is coming tomorrow. We're meeting up with Gizzie and heading to a good ol' friend's 30 birthday. It's suppose to be quite the affair. I'm also drinking with Gizzie tonight-- I'm suppose to read through and critique the scripts he's been working over. Hm. Thinking to be done.
Take it easy.
Today was the last big picking day-- there's nothing left now. I rolled into the farm a few minutes late this morning and gave Gizzie a hand straightening up the store. We loaded up the trash and started cleaning around the produce wagons when Newport and the foreman finally drove up-- real late. The foreman had another car accident-- he was fine, but the repairs are going to be a fortune and an endless problem.
First up was the cabbage. We headed to the hilltop and filled 6 boxes with everything left. Dumped off the cabbage heads at the store and took off to the lower fields-- next was the final round of kale. This time, instead of picking off good leaves, we chopped the good 'tops' off each plant and bunched them as they were. Filled 4 crates of dinosaur and 3 crates of red bore. The foreman's arugula in the center of the lower fields looked ready-- so we inched along and over 2/3 of the triple row: we filled 8 crates.
Time for lunch and drying out.
After lunch we headed back to the lower fields and filled 5 sopping wet sacks with corn. Not much of anything is left anywhere. CSA was starting soon, so we washed up all the greens and filled up the wagon displays. Saturday is the last CSA pick up of the year, only the store and a few market's are left after that. Today we had: 5 types of potatoes (Red Norlands, Yukon Golds, Satinas, Keuka Golds and Kennebunks), red bore/dinosaur kale, butternut/buttercup squash, big tomatoes, corn, broccoli, arugula, green peppers, beets and cabbage-- lots of everything, but the variety has slimmed down. The boss was scratching his head trying to think of more for us to do: One last big haul-- the foreman, Newport and I tractored up to the forest field and cleared the last row of beets. We took everything, but sorted them 2 ways-- the few big beets were bound and bunched, the many tiny beets were clipped down and boxed. Managed to get 1 crate of bunches and 4 big boxes of loose beets.
That was it. We returned to the farm, washed the beets and just stood around. Newport took off early to go to a hockey game with his girlfriend, the foreman flipped through a seed catalog in the store and Gizzie was tied up making jam in the kitchen. I hopped in and lent Gizzie a hand pouring in the pectin, so the jam would set properly, but after that there was nothing left in the fields.
Well almost nothing. I clamored up into the tractor and drove into the remains of the brother's big pumpkin garden-- time for the last of the giants to make their way up to the storefront. I heaved 4 front loaders worth up the hill and arranged them as best as I could manage. Looking for busy work, I took the tractor down to the greenhouse and sorted all the rotten squash out of the piles-- filled an entire front loader with the rot. I dumped it all in the compost heap, returned the tractor and waited the rest of the day away.
I sat down with the boss before the day's end-- tomorrow begins the field clean up work. The days of picking are truly over (although, I swear there has to be more potatoes up on the hill). It's scary stuff.
The foreman came over at closing time and asked if I could give him a lift to the auto-body shop, where his car was being repaired. I said, of course. We chatted on the way-- this weekend is the big one for him. It's a quiet secret that the foreman is hoping to move on this winter. He's been talking to several farms around the city who are looking for a field manager. He wants both worlds-- living with his girlfriend in the city and working for a good farm wage. This weekend he's going to meet one of the farmers.
And maybe it is about time for him to move on-- he's been working this farm with the boss for the past 8 years. But all of this really has me thinking. I'm not blind to all that's been happening this summer-- I've been groomed to take the foreman's place. The boss has been teaching me field layouts, planting/watering times and cycles, he's got me in the tractor and out taking apart pumps/machinery. I just don't know. Talking with Darlin, I keep trying to make up my mind-- cause I'm moving to the city over the winter too. The question is: whether I'm staying there in Spring or coming back to be foreman. And I have got no answer yet.
I love this job, and that's no secret. I'm pretty good at it and there's much more to learn. The boss is an unusually good man and I owe him my sanity-- this job caught me right before I teetered off the edge from unemployment into crazy. But then there's Darlin, friends, writing and many things waiting down in the city. Hm. I would miss the brush burning and planting in Spring, long Summer and Fall harvests.
But I keep coming back to that line from Thoreau-- "It was time that I left Walden, for there were other lives to lead."
Darlin is coming tomorrow. We're meeting up with Gizzie and heading to a good ol' friend's 30 birthday. It's suppose to be quite the affair. I'm also drinking with Gizzie tonight-- I'm suppose to read through and critique the scripts he's been working over. Hm. Thinking to be done.
Take it easy.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Wash Out
Heavy rain all day. Temperature never broke above 48F.
No pictures of the combine today, too wet.
It's time to dry out and sleep.
We polished up the entire haul of tomatoes, scrubbed up the week's potatoes and sorted out the winter squash for the last CSA days. Managed to get soaked to the bone despite being in the barn most of the day.
Long, cold, wet day.
Drying out-- we'll try again tomorrow.
Take it easy.
No pictures of the combine today, too wet.
It's time to dry out and sleep.
We polished up the entire haul of tomatoes, scrubbed up the week's potatoes and sorted out the winter squash for the last CSA days. Managed to get soaked to the bone despite being in the barn most of the day.
Long, cold, wet day.
Drying out-- we'll try again tomorrow.
Take it easy.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Long Pulls
Cloudy morning gave way to a sunny afternoon-- rain coming in tonight. The temperature started at 50F but rose to 63F by the day's end.
Today was the big money market (maybe the last), so I gave Gizzie and the boss a hand filling up the market boxes. Before too long the foreman called me over and the picking day began.
We started off by marching through the corn rows in the lower field-- we filled 4 sacks. We dropped off the corn and loaded up on boxes and shears at the store-- then the foreman found out I knew how to drive the tractor.
Much to my surprise he seemed relieved-- I think the long lonely days harrowing drove him to hate the machine. I'd always assumed he'd be angry, thinking that I was stepping on his toes or taking over his job. Instead he put me behind the wheel and gave me some tips on working the diesel clutch-- Newport hopped aboard and I drove the three of us up to the forest fields. We filled 8 big boxes with the last of the green peppers and 3 buckets of green string beans. At one point a bow hunter came up to scope out the woods for the deer season (starting soon). He waved over to us and went about his business. We piled the catch into the tractor and I drove us back for lunch.
After lunch we rolled uphill and hit the potatoes. Before going to market the boss said we'd need 20 buckets full-- so we set to work. It took all afternoon to inch our way through the remaining yukon golds, satinas and kennebunk-- but we managed to get the full 20 buckets. There are a few rows left-- maybe next week we'll finally get around to emptying the field.
It was almost closing time when we came down off the hill. We stacked up the potato buckets behind the back awning and packed away the day's haul into the cooler. Here's a little foreshadowing:
The demon machine is back. The foreman called me and Newport down-- we climbed all over the machine checking all the chains and inner workings (tomorrow I'll take internal pictures and explain the entire mechanization). But, this is the feed corn harvester-- it's attached to the tractor and then another wagon is attached behind it. It's driven through the corn rows, it sucks up the corn stalks whole, peels out the ears, then shucks/grinds off the kernels and finally spits them out into the back wagon. Looks like the foreman will pilot the whole apparatus from the tractor, while Newport and I take turns managing the kernel flow and the stalk/ear chaff exhaust chute. The boss got this monstrosity for free last year-- it's from the 1940s and runs exactly as you'd expect: loudly, rusty and brokenly. We have a lot of prep work before go time: all the hundreds of chains need oiling, the grease boxes/joints need filling, the engine oil needs to be drained and replaced-- then the innards need a slow inspection/tests/repairs. The foreman seems to think we'll tackle everything this week. I like big machines, so this is all pretty exciting. But Newport and I stared into the grinding plates and shook our heads (you'll see what I mean tomorrow)-- it'd be hell to get any part of you chewed up in this thing.
After walking over the machine and familiarizing ourselves with its workings the foreman called it a day. Homeward bound.
Take it easy.
Today was the big money market (maybe the last), so I gave Gizzie and the boss a hand filling up the market boxes. Before too long the foreman called me over and the picking day began.
We started off by marching through the corn rows in the lower field-- we filled 4 sacks. We dropped off the corn and loaded up on boxes and shears at the store-- then the foreman found out I knew how to drive the tractor.
Much to my surprise he seemed relieved-- I think the long lonely days harrowing drove him to hate the machine. I'd always assumed he'd be angry, thinking that I was stepping on his toes or taking over his job. Instead he put me behind the wheel and gave me some tips on working the diesel clutch-- Newport hopped aboard and I drove the three of us up to the forest fields. We filled 8 big boxes with the last of the green peppers and 3 buckets of green string beans. At one point a bow hunter came up to scope out the woods for the deer season (starting soon). He waved over to us and went about his business. We piled the catch into the tractor and I drove us back for lunch.
After lunch we rolled uphill and hit the potatoes. Before going to market the boss said we'd need 20 buckets full-- so we set to work. It took all afternoon to inch our way through the remaining yukon golds, satinas and kennebunk-- but we managed to get the full 20 buckets. There are a few rows left-- maybe next week we'll finally get around to emptying the field.
It was almost closing time when we came down off the hill. We stacked up the potato buckets behind the back awning and packed away the day's haul into the cooler. Here's a little foreshadowing:
After walking over the machine and familiarizing ourselves with its workings the foreman called it a day. Homeward bound.
Take it easy.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Sharpen the Edges
I've been writting sloppy and repetitive. It's time to sharpen the edges and flex out. Gotta stay loose, gotta keep going-- season ain't over yet.
State of the Farm
Things have slowed, that's certain. Corn is on its last legs, only a few green peppers left (the reds are too delicate for the weather/rotted), the kale and chard have grown old-- the leaves are much smaller these days. Cherry tomatoes are all dead, berries (as I've belabored) are dead, the string beans have stopped any further growth. No more pumpkins/no more squash/no more onions, their fields are empty. So whats left-- a few beets, lots of potatoes, that little bit of corn, thyme needs to be cut, the hilltop tomatoes will keep chugging until the first killing frost, then there's broccoli, cabbage, brussel sprouts, spinach and arugula-- but that's it. We're cooking up a good amount of jam these days-- filling up the shelves for the winter holidays. It won't be too many weeks before we start clearing up the fields and start the winter pruning. Another month, by my counting, until most of the field work is shut down until March.
State of Things
Lot's of action these days. Just came back from another weekend in the city. Darlin had some big plans up her sleeve-- it's been all over the internet and trickled into the 'normal' news. I booted up and we marched with all the protesters to a big rally in the center of the city. I can't do much half way-- I hollered my head off and lost my voice down to a whisper. It was my personal mission to keep Darlin from getting arrested again, and that nearly failed. Most of the march was pretty worry free-- lots of families, old folks, little kids, students, workers and the whole lot. We stood in front of a big group of doctors in their lab coats-- flanked by a contingent of dentists. Marched along with a World War 2 vet and his wife-- she wore his flight jacket and medals, he had on a sandwich board as he hobbled along with his walker. When we got to the center of the city things started to get heavy-- police buses, paddy wagons and swat trucks lined the way. Cops stood every 5 ft from the beginning, but near the end were row on row of serious fellas decked out in riot gear-- shields, clubs and enough quick-ties to arrest half the city.
Things got pretty tense-- we kept moving and singing along with the little kids. At one street corner I got a real bad feeling-- the police had stretched out the 'kettling' nets and had formed a shield wall. I pulled Darlin out of the march up into a store front saying-- whoa whoa, lets hold on for a moment. Not a minute later the nets were drawn, trapping everyone else inside-- there were screams and fifty-some riot shields scooted up from behind. Darling and I slipped back along the store fronts and away from the trouble. But we kept on-- we found a way around and joined up at the big central rally. No further incidents while we were there-- though I've seen the pictures of horse police charging in later in the night. We were far off by then.
So now I'm home again. Gizzie and I are planning on something tonight-- all this work and play only amounts to so much. I want him to teach me to act, ehehehe-- seems like something good to be able to do. But most likely-- we'll settle down and record more music. Last winter we played around with some mixing boards and equipment-- we play guitars, mandolin, accordion, drums and bass between the two of us. We banged out one good-horrifying song and 6 or so crap-half finished songs. So it's time for more of that. Another option is to write-- we chatter off a dozen or so story/scene ideas every time we go for a drink. Maybe it's time to reign in the stallions and get some pages filled. That's for tonight-- if only to prove ourselves wrong, thinking we wont do it.
Today
Full sun all day through. Temperature in the upper 50Fs.
Old Rudolpho is gone. Headed back to Guatemala-- and I might never see the guy again (Marco let on that the old man might not have another season of work left in him). It's too bad, really. It's just the boys now.
We loaded up the tractor with buckets then rode the hilltop early in the morning-- a full day of tomato picking ahead. The foreman and Newport took their rows, Gizzie and I took ours. No surprises here-- just buckets to fill. We picked straight to lunch.
There was considerably more to do after eating. The boss's brother is selling off six of his calves-- they're going to farmers who'll fatten 'em up over a year, then it's to slaughter. Of the four calves he's keeping-- the baby bull will be raised up maybe to breed or maybe to sell for breeding, the 3 cows will be fattened and then slaughtered next fall. So after lunch we trucked down to pasture to separate out the calves from the herd-- so the brother could decided which he wanted to hold onto. We set up a holding pen down by the feed trough-- the herd was all gathered together nearby. They knew something was up-- the cows yelled over and again. The brother gave us sticks to guide/drive the cows with. We dumped a few bags of corn into the pen-- and the whole herd ran in and gobbled the stuff up. It took a few minutes to round up the strays, but everything went without a hitch. With the whole herd inside the pen, the boss and his brother hopped inside and corralled back the calves while we lead the adults out with more corn-- it took 2 minutes tops. We left the brother and his wife to handle sorting through the calves. I got splattered with more than my share of cow shit.
Back to the tomatoes. We cleared the rest of the field, loaded the buckets onto the wagon and trucked 'em down to the barn-- 87 buckets total. Great numbers. We grabbed knives and set out again-- this time to cut the broccoli. Gizzie hadn't cut the stuff before and was excited-- he was sorely disappointed. The foreman was in a sour spot-- he nearly bucked Gizzie off the tractor and into the horse pond on the ride up. We filled 5 bushels before closing.
Tidied up the yard and got things ready in the barn for tomato sorting tomorrow. Then off for home.
Day was done.
On Gizzie:
My friend has made himself right at home on the farm. Ehehehe, but really-- the boss has really got a soft spot for him. Out of the boss's farm 'sons' Gizzie has become the beloved baby.
Riding to and from markets the old man really opens up and talks straight-- saying personal things I have no business writing about. But according to Gizzie: while rolling down the highway, Lucy perched on his lap, the boss will ruffle the dog's ears and say "whaddya think Luce? Should we let the kid get his nicotine fix or just let 'im squirm? Alright, alright-- spark up Gizzie, but you should really think of quitting. Maybe try smoking something else beside cigarettes, worked for me when I was a kid."
Stay warm. Take it easy.
State of the Farm
Things have slowed, that's certain. Corn is on its last legs, only a few green peppers left (the reds are too delicate for the weather/rotted), the kale and chard have grown old-- the leaves are much smaller these days. Cherry tomatoes are all dead, berries (as I've belabored) are dead, the string beans have stopped any further growth. No more pumpkins/no more squash/no more onions, their fields are empty. So whats left-- a few beets, lots of potatoes, that little bit of corn, thyme needs to be cut, the hilltop tomatoes will keep chugging until the first killing frost, then there's broccoli, cabbage, brussel sprouts, spinach and arugula-- but that's it. We're cooking up a good amount of jam these days-- filling up the shelves for the winter holidays. It won't be too many weeks before we start clearing up the fields and start the winter pruning. Another month, by my counting, until most of the field work is shut down until March.
State of Things
Lot's of action these days. Just came back from another weekend in the city. Darlin had some big plans up her sleeve-- it's been all over the internet and trickled into the 'normal' news. I booted up and we marched with all the protesters to a big rally in the center of the city. I can't do much half way-- I hollered my head off and lost my voice down to a whisper. It was my personal mission to keep Darlin from getting arrested again, and that nearly failed. Most of the march was pretty worry free-- lots of families, old folks, little kids, students, workers and the whole lot. We stood in front of a big group of doctors in their lab coats-- flanked by a contingent of dentists. Marched along with a World War 2 vet and his wife-- she wore his flight jacket and medals, he had on a sandwich board as he hobbled along with his walker. When we got to the center of the city things started to get heavy-- police buses, paddy wagons and swat trucks lined the way. Cops stood every 5 ft from the beginning, but near the end were row on row of serious fellas decked out in riot gear-- shields, clubs and enough quick-ties to arrest half the city.
Things got pretty tense-- we kept moving and singing along with the little kids. At one street corner I got a real bad feeling-- the police had stretched out the 'kettling' nets and had formed a shield wall. I pulled Darlin out of the march up into a store front saying-- whoa whoa, lets hold on for a moment. Not a minute later the nets were drawn, trapping everyone else inside-- there were screams and fifty-some riot shields scooted up from behind. Darling and I slipped back along the store fronts and away from the trouble. But we kept on-- we found a way around and joined up at the big central rally. No further incidents while we were there-- though I've seen the pictures of horse police charging in later in the night. We were far off by then.
So now I'm home again. Gizzie and I are planning on something tonight-- all this work and play only amounts to so much. I want him to teach me to act, ehehehe-- seems like something good to be able to do. But most likely-- we'll settle down and record more music. Last winter we played around with some mixing boards and equipment-- we play guitars, mandolin, accordion, drums and bass between the two of us. We banged out one good-horrifying song and 6 or so crap-half finished songs. So it's time for more of that. Another option is to write-- we chatter off a dozen or so story/scene ideas every time we go for a drink. Maybe it's time to reign in the stallions and get some pages filled. That's for tonight-- if only to prove ourselves wrong, thinking we wont do it.
Today
Full sun all day through. Temperature in the upper 50Fs.
Old Rudolpho is gone. Headed back to Guatemala-- and I might never see the guy again (Marco let on that the old man might not have another season of work left in him). It's too bad, really. It's just the boys now.
We loaded up the tractor with buckets then rode the hilltop early in the morning-- a full day of tomato picking ahead. The foreman and Newport took their rows, Gizzie and I took ours. No surprises here-- just buckets to fill. We picked straight to lunch.
There was considerably more to do after eating. The boss's brother is selling off six of his calves-- they're going to farmers who'll fatten 'em up over a year, then it's to slaughter. Of the four calves he's keeping-- the baby bull will be raised up maybe to breed or maybe to sell for breeding, the 3 cows will be fattened and then slaughtered next fall. So after lunch we trucked down to pasture to separate out the calves from the herd-- so the brother could decided which he wanted to hold onto. We set up a holding pen down by the feed trough-- the herd was all gathered together nearby. They knew something was up-- the cows yelled over and again. The brother gave us sticks to guide/drive the cows with. We dumped a few bags of corn into the pen-- and the whole herd ran in and gobbled the stuff up. It took a few minutes to round up the strays, but everything went without a hitch. With the whole herd inside the pen, the boss and his brother hopped inside and corralled back the calves while we lead the adults out with more corn-- it took 2 minutes tops. We left the brother and his wife to handle sorting through the calves. I got splattered with more than my share of cow shit.
Back to the tomatoes. We cleared the rest of the field, loaded the buckets onto the wagon and trucked 'em down to the barn-- 87 buckets total. Great numbers. We grabbed knives and set out again-- this time to cut the broccoli. Gizzie hadn't cut the stuff before and was excited-- he was sorely disappointed. The foreman was in a sour spot-- he nearly bucked Gizzie off the tractor and into the horse pond on the ride up. We filled 5 bushels before closing.
Tidied up the yard and got things ready in the barn for tomato sorting tomorrow. Then off for home.
Day was done.
On Gizzie:
My friend has made himself right at home on the farm. Ehehehe, but really-- the boss has really got a soft spot for him. Out of the boss's farm 'sons' Gizzie has become the beloved baby.
Riding to and from markets the old man really opens up and talks straight-- saying personal things I have no business writing about. But according to Gizzie: while rolling down the highway, Lucy perched on his lap, the boss will ruffle the dog's ears and say "whaddya think Luce? Should we let the kid get his nicotine fix or just let 'im squirm? Alright, alright-- spark up Gizzie, but you should really think of quitting. Maybe try smoking something else beside cigarettes, worked for me when I was a kid."
Stay warm. Take it easy.
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