Can't promise a chapter a day but hopefully we've got the workload managed if not completely under control
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Chapter 65
“I didn’t ‘let’ ‘em Mitch. I just didn’t have time to fight with the hens that were too good at hiding their nests in the barn and then before you know it, they’re out strutting their stuff with chicks in tow. I know you’ve been nice about saying stuff about all the work I did, but I’m going to be honest, for about a month after you left the dogs took care of me more than I took care of everything else. I hadn’t talked in so long at one point, when I did several of the goats fainted and I nearly did too.”
He laughed for a moment then slowly stopped as he notice I wasn’t. “Nann?”
“I was probably goofier than Turnbridge until the night those planes crashed and it shook me up enough to get me back going the right direction.” I shrugged. “There were no disasters but, as you can see, some stuff did get away from me. Have I ruined the chickens?” I asked in worry.
“No,” he said like the idea was ridiculous. “Might even be a godsend if the winter is bad. Younger chicks we would lose to the cold.” He shook his head. “That hay stacked up against the barn is going to have to act as insulation. Just need to make sure there is good ventilation so we don’t get condensation inside the barn. I’ll think on it and hopefully there will be time to do something about it.”
“I can’t believe how warm it is. I didn’t even need a jacket this morning when I went to gather the eggs.” I shook my head. “But the chickens know something. Only a couple are still laying. Just in the last couple of days production has really dropped.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Thanks for helping to get the butchering area set up. It ain’t time yet but, I don’t want it to catch me off guard either. If it gets cold enough end of this month, beginning of next, you think you can handle the kitchen if I slaughter the animals?”
“Depending on the weather we might as well do it all together. I found all those containers … plastic and metal … and at the first freeze we’ll start on the ice room as well.”
“The first freeze will probably be more frost than freeze. Some of those containers are deep and you’ll get a top crust of ice but it won’t freeze all the way through. Might only be able to put an inch or two of water in them to start with. The first ice in the ice room will melt before we can lower the temp in there enough to keep ice frozen. That insulation board will help but it air temperature still needs to drop significantly to make the idea work.”
Nodding I showed I understood. “If we are going to have to run the freezers to keep up with the butchering, we could might fill up the old pop bottles and stuff and get them frozen too. I know we planned to use them for the popcorn but I don’t know, maybe we should freeze them and try and get the ice room going instead. I can find other things to put the popcorn in.”
This time it was Mitch’s turn to nod. “Might be a good idea at that.” We watched the kids play with the dogs from the side yard where we were walking and talking plans out. Mitch snorted, noticing that Butch had figured out that Amy was weaker than Dan and therefore he couldn’t be as rough with her. “Smart dog.”
“Let’s hope the puppies are as smart. Especially if you are going to try and turn them into a hunting pack. Lord knows how I’m going to feed them over the winter.”
“They’ll get the offal from anything that I can bring in when I go hunting. And I’m definitely going to get some venison whether I have tags or not. They’ll strip the trees this winter if we aren’t careful. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many. And I want to get them before they get lean and tough.”
I shook my head. “Dad and Dale both said things were so hunted over people were having to go to meatless menus whether they wanted to or not.”
“I’ve thought about that. Wish we could send them some to be honest. It would give me a reason to cull more than we can use. They’re coming down from the high ridge to feed. I hope that doesn’t mean they’ve stripped everything up there already. That’s not going to be good for erosion. You sure you’re going to be able to do something with whatever meat we can manage?”
We walked over to the well as Mitch was more and more convinced a windmill on it would be a boon even with the work involved. He was also trying to think of a way to get water down to the subcellar, or at least the cellar, for just in case.
“I’ve got a long list of recipes that I’ve already made sure I have all of the ingredients for. After that I have recipes that I might only be missing one or two things for that will be easy to substitute. If nothing else, I can raw pack it and just can it as-is and then use it to make other things with over time. What I’m worried about is the salt. We’re going to be using a lot … A LOT … to preserve the meat. And I don’t know about you, but after hearing Dad go on about the people where they are at having the same concerns I wish there was some way to get ahead of next year.”
“Might be a way.”
I gave him a look. “Not if it includes you being in danger. You’ve done more than your fair share and more than your fair share of suffering for it.”
He blinked and then tried to give me an innocent look that I wasn’t falling for. He eventually said, “Er … let me think on it some.”
“Uh huh. You think on it some all you want but we’re married now even if we aren’t taking advantage of all the perks. So on this I am being the wife and putting my foot down. You’ve bled enough. Let’s come up with something together that don’t cause you to have to bleed anymore. Instead of canning so much next year … we got the issue of the lids to think of anyway … I’ll just keep the dryhouse running. There’s herb mixes I can make for a salty-taste and I should probably start doing that now to save the table salt. We can smoke the jerky instead of marinating it in salt. As for the rest …”
“As for the rest … let me think on it,” Mitch told me. “I’m due some back pay, maybe I can parlay that into some things we’ll need instead of cash on the barrelhead.” Then he gave me a look and I knew he was determined to get some answers.
“I’ve heard enough of the stories about how that fighter jet took out the salvagers’ campfrom others, but now I want to hear it from you.”
# # # # #
I had gotten nearly through the entire story when the kids came running and asking if they could have an apple. “I don’t see why not,” I told them. “But only one. I don’t think you want a bellyache.”
They both ran off again, happy, but I turned back to Mitch to find him just the opposite.
“Nannette …”
Trying to forestall what I thought was going to be a lecture I asked, “Would you have done any different?”
He stopped, trying to come up with something to say. I could tell he was trying to be careful which was a good sign.
“Not what I was going for,” he said. He surprised me by saying, “Not a lot of point in wishing things had happened differently when to be honest that was probably the best outcome that could have been hoped for. We don’t have to worry about the dregs of the group still working but … aw hell Nann, c’mere and at least let me hold you even if the kids can see. I never wanted you to have to deal with something like that. I can’t believe they just left you here without them at least trying to find the salvagers.”
“Guess you didn’t hear that part. They thought it was an enemy patrol, not salvagers. That there had been a lot of groups attacked at the same time all along the border. Salvagers never even came into their thinking. They just started firebombing the border.”
He hugged me anyway and then kept his arm around me. “Are you okay?”
“With what I did? Yes. With watching Donny Winters come to a bad end? Yes. With all of it? You coming home was the last piece of it so yes on that too. Do you think less of me for it?”
“No. I’m grateful. But that don’t stop me from wishing …”
“You know what Uncle Hy would have said about wishing.”
Mitch snorted. “Yeah. Wish in one hand and crap in the other and see which one weighs the most. Don’t change my feelings on the subject. And you sure that Major had all the art and other gewgaws hauled off?”
“And I suspect for his own gain. But I’m not sticking my nose in that. I’m just glad that Lt. Clark has been reassigned someplace else. She had started to get on my nerves.”
“I’ll check with Cahill if he gets assigned back here like the gossips say. He may not after the field promotion he got to Sergeant Major. He’s moved from company to battalion level authority.”
“And that’s a big deal?”
“It is for a man his age. And if I have to guess he’s being groomed to be a Command Sergeant Major. He’s good at what he does. Had a grasp on how to guide the troops whether they be enlisted or not. Damn good liaison between enlisted and officers and that’s a fact. Made my job easier and I learned a lot from him too. If some of the bigwigs would get out of the way and let more Sergeant Major’s have final say on the ground, we probably wouldn’t have had some of the pushes from the enemy that we’ve had.”
“The bigwigs sound like big heads.”
“Some maybe but its more that you have political officers and then you have fighting officers. Look at any war and you can tell the difference. The same could be said for peace time. Neither one is inherently bad but your healthy balance depends on the situation you are dealing with. Too many political officers and you wind up with more in-fighting than fighting the enemy because the officers are more interested in self-aggrandizement than fighting and getting the war over with. Political officers get too interconnected with what is called the war industry. They make money off it above and beyond their personal payroll. They want to keep it rolling along so they can keep making money but without the motivation to do what must be done to bring it to a close. Fighting officers? They can get myopic … you know, tunnel vision … and don’t always see the big picture outside of the war itself. That’s got it own set of problems. Not everything is a nail looking for a hammer. We had political officers in charge up to recently. There were some attempted assassinations I only found out while I was hospitalized. Suddenly the Whitehouse decides to change their game plan and put fighting generals in charge … like when Lincoln put Grant in charge after letting McClellan run the show for so long.”
“You are using the US Civil War as an example? Really?!”
“Yes. Really. If you don’t learn from history you are doomed to repeat it.”
“Whooo boy, you had too much time on your hands to think when you were in quarantine,” trying to fun him out of the mood he was sliding into.
Mitch grimaced. “You have no idea. But I tried to put it to good use. I just wish I’d had Dad’s library and files to work from.” Then he looked at me. “And I went along with you distracting me from the subject of Donny Winters and the rest of it only because I know there isn’t a thing I can do about it … except do my best you never have to face something like that again.”
I hugged him to show I wasn’t irredeemably broken and when I heard his stomach growl I knew it was time to move on to more constructive activities. There were things in this life you just couldn’t change and then there were things that you could. For now I could change hungry bellies into full ones, I just hope that stayed true.