Four-Wheel Drive

Like Papa, I am happy in my work and it’s a good thing, too, because otherwise the mountain of chores piling up might have the opposite effect. No sooner had the snow melted, than I realized that I was going to have to wrap up this interior work, and shift my attention outdoors.

While doing so, I am also going to have to shift into 4WD, as if working hundreds of hours a day has not been enough. That is the nature of farming-there is never enough time, even if I had the endurance. With March going out like a lamb, after barging in most lion-like, with snow, ice and frigid temperatures, the list of pressing matters grows longer every day.

By this time last year, I had already turned over the mega-compost pile, by pitchfork, in order to promote additional breakdown for the last six weeks. I then worked the home-grown compost into the soil of everything I had going in my neck of the farm: primarily tomatoes and ornamental flowers.

By this time last year, all of the necessary tomato seeds had been started, even though the persistent rain last spring caused us to accomplish only a fifty percent germination rate. Tomatoes need warmth to sprout, but even adding the tight plastic covers to the trays, was not enough to achieve the desired percentage of germination. 

By this time last year, I had already turned over the soil in the orchard, although with the new tractor-like device being employed on-farm by HeadSodBuster and SmallBoy, I will not have to work the soil for Tomato Terrace, out back, this year. 

In this terrace I planted 45-er, 44-Ace tomato plants. I accidentally planted 45, until I realized my mistake and transplanted one out to the orchard. I am going for quality-not quantity-this year, so I am reducing the number of Ace plants to thirty, and caging them with the construction wire, equipped with six-inch-square holes.

By this time last year, I already had a good head-start on the very compost pile I was just prattling on about. 

On the flip side I was still reeling from the water damage which occurred in the downstairs bathroom over the winter of 2016/‘17, due to a leaky roof that just blew up. Unquestionably, it was more than just a matter of patching up some problematic areas-it was going to be more like General Sherman storming through Georgia, and rebuilding again, afterward.

Yes, Sherman marched through,
but did he clean up, afterwards?

I have now only to affix cabinet doors and trim to the laundry room, and then flooring, to call the whole thing macaroni. What we originally talked about doing the week between Christmas and New Years Day, has taken me the better part of January, February and March to accomplish. 

What’s three months here and there among friends?

Over March we were inundated by three separate periods of heavy snowfall, each instance leaving the farm unaccessible for several days while the snow melted. Even had I been desperate to get out and start going for it, I would have had to wait for the snow to relocate.

On top of the logistical work still to be done indoors, and the lengthy list of outdoors chores, I have also acquired the materials I need to create a second piece of wood-working art, comparable to the log-cabin one I put together last month.

At the top of the list, we also have the imminent arrival of baby Ollie Mac, the first grandchild.

I will try to set all of this aside, later on today at 4:08, and adjourn to the living room, to watch Opening Day on the baseball diamond between the Giants and the Dodgers. I will broil hot dogs and produce enough home-made French fries to feed an entire team, and revel in the fact that the game starts at a reasonable time for a guy who retires at seven every night.

And just hope the game does not go into extra innings.