Blain had originally planned to assign himself to the job of running the skid-steer to load the trailer at the chicken-farm.
Sarah put her foot down. “You have to coordinate this project. That means you cannot pin yourself down in one position. You need to be someplace where people can find you when they have a problem. You might give somebody a break if you get bored, but you can't hide yourself at the chicken-farm. Better you should rove around and try to anticipate problems out where people can see ya.”
“But if I don’t run the skid-steer, then who will?” Blain complained.
“Roger!” Sarah said with finality.
“But I figured Roger was going to be driving his own tractor” Blain said.
“Lots of people can drive Roger’s tractor” Sarah informed him. “But you can’t have a kid driving a skid-steer at the chicken-farm.”
Position-by-position, Blain and Sarah discussed who could do what. In some cases, there was an obvious choice. Gregor was the only resident of Copperhead Cove with a truck and a current driver’s license so he was the obvious choice to shuttle the trailer between the chicken-farm and Copperhead Cove.
Sarah and Blain went over to “socialize” with Gregor, work not being allowed on the Sabbath and they just happened to ask him if he was agreeable to the assignment.
He was. When Blain asked if he would be willing to also run the skid-steer, thinking he could get double-duty out of him and free up Roger, Gregor said “I assumed we would use two trailers and the person running the skid-steer could be filling up one while I am shuttling the other.”
“Where am I going to get another trailer?” Blain said. He was clearly in-over-his head with the tidal-wave of new responsibilities.
“I can work on that if you let me use my smartphone when I am off-property” Gregor said.
Unbeknownst to Blain, Gregor had already asked Sig if he could use his phone while the team was fertilizing. Sig refused to answer. “Ask Blain. He is running this circus.”
“Yeah. No problem. I never thought about a second trailer” Blain said.
Then Gregor asked “Do you have plans to pick up the ground limestone?”
Blain had completely spaced that part of the plan, the mixing of the ground limestone with the chicken-shit before spreading. “No. I don’t see how we can if we will be spreading manure tomorrow. We will just have to go back over it when we get the limestone.”
“I can work on that, too” Gregor said. He did not relish the idea for going back over the plots and spreading lime, trying to guess how much each one needed. He knew in his heart that it just was not going to happen.
During the course of the “socializing” the ladies decided that a tall stick with a disposable plastic grocery bag tied to the top of it would be the signal that a given plot was to be fertilized. The stick was to be jammed into the ground in the center of the plot.
While the compound was buzzing, Gregor slipped off-property to the cemetery beside the road and started making phone calls. Gregor’s concept of “not working on the Sabbath” was much more flexible than his father, Sig’s.
At full-light, Gregor and Roger hooked up the trailer and rattled down the switchbacks of the steep two-track to the public road. Even though the trailer was made from the box-and-frame salvaged from a pickup truck and it had lights, it did not have a connector at the end of the harness. It seemed safer to wait for light and not attract any police attention.
Sally (a.k.a. Salisbury, Copperhead Cove’s loquacious neighbor) was waiting for them at the chicken-farm loading dock. He had twenty bags of ground limestone in the back of his truck. Gregor unloaded them into the bucket of the skid-steer and Roger moved them to an out-of-the-way corner. Blain paid Sally $200 for the limestone.
Sally had driven a hard bargain when Gregor called him from the cemetery. In return for delivering the limestone and the loan of his trailer, he required that he work on the crew driving a second tractor, his own. Sally loved socializing. He loved the positive, can-do attitude of the Copperhead Cove kids but rarely had a legitimate reason to hang-out with them.
Gregor had told Sally that he didn’t have the authority to hire him but if he showed up at the farm pulling his trailer with his tractor and volunteered, then Blain would almost have to accept his help.
Sally had come prepared. While picking up the bags of limestone, he had purchased a bag of cheap, hard-candy and a bucket of Bazooka bubble-gum. Nothing puts a smile on a kid’s face like root beer barrels or bubble-gum, especially when sugar is a rare treat.
Sarah put her foot down. “You have to coordinate this project. That means you cannot pin yourself down in one position. You need to be someplace where people can find you when they have a problem. You might give somebody a break if you get bored, but you can't hide yourself at the chicken-farm. Better you should rove around and try to anticipate problems out where people can see ya.”
“But if I don’t run the skid-steer, then who will?” Blain complained.
“Roger!” Sarah said with finality.
“But I figured Roger was going to be driving his own tractor” Blain said.
“Lots of people can drive Roger’s tractor” Sarah informed him. “But you can’t have a kid driving a skid-steer at the chicken-farm.”
Position-by-position, Blain and Sarah discussed who could do what. In some cases, there was an obvious choice. Gregor was the only resident of Copperhead Cove with a truck and a current driver’s license so he was the obvious choice to shuttle the trailer between the chicken-farm and Copperhead Cove.
Sarah and Blain went over to “socialize” with Gregor, work not being allowed on the Sabbath and they just happened to ask him if he was agreeable to the assignment.
He was. When Blain asked if he would be willing to also run the skid-steer, thinking he could get double-duty out of him and free up Roger, Gregor said “I assumed we would use two trailers and the person running the skid-steer could be filling up one while I am shuttling the other.”
“Where am I going to get another trailer?” Blain said. He was clearly in-over-his head with the tidal-wave of new responsibilities.
“I can work on that if you let me use my smartphone when I am off-property” Gregor said.
Unbeknownst to Blain, Gregor had already asked Sig if he could use his phone while the team was fertilizing. Sig refused to answer. “Ask Blain. He is running this circus.”
“Yeah. No problem. I never thought about a second trailer” Blain said.
Then Gregor asked “Do you have plans to pick up the ground limestone?”
Blain had completely spaced that part of the plan, the mixing of the ground limestone with the chicken-shit before spreading. “No. I don’t see how we can if we will be spreading manure tomorrow. We will just have to go back over it when we get the limestone.”
“I can work on that, too” Gregor said. He did not relish the idea for going back over the plots and spreading lime, trying to guess how much each one needed. He knew in his heart that it just was not going to happen.
During the course of the “socializing” the ladies decided that a tall stick with a disposable plastic grocery bag tied to the top of it would be the signal that a given plot was to be fertilized. The stick was to be jammed into the ground in the center of the plot.
While the compound was buzzing, Gregor slipped off-property to the cemetery beside the road and started making phone calls. Gregor’s concept of “not working on the Sabbath” was much more flexible than his father, Sig’s.
At full-light, Gregor and Roger hooked up the trailer and rattled down the switchbacks of the steep two-track to the public road. Even though the trailer was made from the box-and-frame salvaged from a pickup truck and it had lights, it did not have a connector at the end of the harness. It seemed safer to wait for light and not attract any police attention.
Sally (a.k.a. Salisbury, Copperhead Cove’s loquacious neighbor) was waiting for them at the chicken-farm loading dock. He had twenty bags of ground limestone in the back of his truck. Gregor unloaded them into the bucket of the skid-steer and Roger moved them to an out-of-the-way corner. Blain paid Sally $200 for the limestone.
Sally had driven a hard bargain when Gregor called him from the cemetery. In return for delivering the limestone and the loan of his trailer, he required that he work on the crew driving a second tractor, his own. Sally loved socializing. He loved the positive, can-do attitude of the Copperhead Cove kids but rarely had a legitimate reason to hang-out with them.
Gregor had told Sally that he didn’t have the authority to hire him but if he showed up at the farm pulling his trailer with his tractor and volunteered, then Blain would almost have to accept his help.
Sally had come prepared. While picking up the bags of limestone, he had purchased a bag of cheap, hard-candy and a bucket of Bazooka bubble-gum. Nothing puts a smile on a kid’s face like root beer barrels or bubble-gum, especially when sugar is a rare treat.
***
Gregor showed up at the garden plot with the load of chicken shit before Sally showed up with his farm tractor and trailer.
Blain’s first conflict was when Lliam wanted to drive in a straight line across the plot boundaries and skip from plot-to-plot while the Sarah, the guinea pig and owner of the first plot that they were fertilizing wanted him maneuver around the 70’ square plot and fertilize the entire plot before moving on.
Lliam explained to Blain that turning tightly was hard on the equipment and he thought that the center would get over-fertilized while the outsides of the turns would get under-fertilized.
Lliam had driven straight, parallel to the two-track about 15 feet from the edge. The shovelers had tossed out chicken shit as Lliam inched the tractor forward. Between what spilled off the back end of the trailer and the shovelers tossing the poop, the swath of fertilizer was nearly half as wide as the width of the plot.
Blain looked at the swath of fertilizer that had been spread. It was almost invisible. He had figured 12 cubic feet of mixed chicken-shit and bedding per plot. He also noticed that the front tires of the tractor had gouged divots in the ground where Lliam had turned sharply.
Two, parallel passes would evenly cover the plot.
Blain looked over at Sig who was standing behind the trailer listening to the conflict. Sig shrugged. “Yer project. You decide.”
Blain turned to Sarah and said “We only have a couple days to spread as much fertilizer as we can. I know it seems like a lick-and-a-promise but we will be back. The sooner we get the trailer empty the more fertilizer we can move in two days.”
Then turning to Lliam, Blain said “Can you keep track of where you have been?”
Lliam face split in an ear-to-ear grin. “I shore can.” By Lliam’s figuring, that secured his seat in the tractor for the duration of the project. Driving a tractor beat shoveling shit any day of the week.
Of course Blain was thrilled to have Sally show up with his farm tractor and trailer.
Gregor said “Ya know, it would make a lot of sense to do the drop-and-hook at the bottom of the driveway. You can get the trailers up and down the drive faster with the tractors than I can with the truck and I won't get stuck in the field.”
Blain agreed to Gregor’s plan so Sally turned around and dropped off his trailer at the turn-around space at the bottom of the drive. Gregor followed in his truck.
Separating the brake pedals on the rear wheels and using one to assist the turn pretty much eliminates the front tire divots. ---ken.
ReplyDeleteI had a buddy that would slam into the turn row when we were breaking ground in the winter. He pushed dirt and grass into the beads using the brakes and not slowing enough. His dad owned the farm, and wasn't happy about fixing flats in the field. I learned a lot on the fly. Every job has unforseen issues and being flexible / creative is a major plus. Leave yer ego at the house.
ReplyDeleteGreat stuff Joe, it's neat to see the village getting whipped up into this new level of activity. I wonder if they could barter a manure spreader to tow behind the tractor?
ReplyDeleteThe fascinating thing to me, ERJ, is that the bulk of modern civilization has no idea what you wrote and a mild idea only of why it is important. Yet they are 100% dependent on that knowledge existing in some form or fashion to eat.
ReplyDeleteYes TB, so true. Many of us in the 7th or 8th decade of life only have our childhood experiences with our parents and grandparents to call on and remember and learn from those days.
ReplyDeleteHopefully the skills of raising animals and growing gardens and crops can be taught or passed on to our generations going forward.
I agree Steve but as much as I offer to show and tell young , and even middle age , people how to do those things I've spent my life doing very few can find the time to come and find out. When the people our age who have the skills are gone, which could be soon, thousands of years of accumulated knowledge will be gone with us. And they can't go on-line to get it back. ---ken
ReplyDeleteThe smart young ones (Category 1), and yes, there are some, are buying books, taking classes and doing the work. I know of a couple. They'll be fine, give or take.
ReplyDeleteThe less smart ones are buying books (Category 2), but not doing the work. They are going to find out the hard way that the world doesn't always work the way the books say it does.
The dumb ones (Category 3) are going to the grocery store and spending money on "experiences". They are going to find out about starving, or becoming voluntary serfs for those in Category 1.
Us older folks (Category 4), if we're lucky, will be partnering with the Category 1s and 2.
This is not how I expected my "golden years" to work out.
I'm with Free... This was NOT the plan I had for my old age.
ReplyDeleteThat we have an old age
ReplyDeleteWill make it all worthwhile.
Night and day between dad and son, Sig and Gregor. I wonder how well the son honors the 10 Commandments, particularly the 4th and 5th.
ReplyDeleteOften, the one heading the 'circus' is not the wisest or mist experienced. But he surrounds himself with well qualified people. Nonetheless, mych seems forced upon Blaine because he stuck his neck out to tackle the project.
Ironically, unfortunately, the very same is what prevents so many wise or experienced people from volunteering.