Story Up On Hartford Ridge

Kathy in FL

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________

Chapter 131​


For convenience and planning the crew that works our place usually work at the Big Farm as well though it is different work because we have different crops. We have full crops of fruits and some vegetables while the Big Farm is what produces big crops of grains, greens, and beans. Individual households have their fruit trees and bushes and the like, but that’s on them to manage; crews only help with the cash crops. Most of the “help” right now is weeding and cultivating; the chores the farm tractors used to help with. Not enough fuel these days however.

“Babe I tell you Uncle Mark and I got so tired of even some of the uncles wondering why we didn’t just trade for a little fuel I was gonna go bald.”

Watching him pull his own hair and constantly rake his hands through it didn’t make that statement as much of an exaggeration as you’d think. I said, “I know that’s why you went over there last night. Did you shock them into finally understanding?”

“You mean by starting to tell each of them what they needed to pay in for just one run of fuel? Worked for some of them, others thought the Big Farm would just eat it.”

I shrugged, “Six of one, half dozen of another. Didn’t they understand it still meant they would not be earning anything for the next month or two or more?”

“No Babe, they thought that the Farm would just incur the expense without it affecting them at all. That’s when the blackboard came out and Uncle Mark did the math for Gramps and the few others that were paying attention. Had a couple then try to turn it into a vote.”

Nearly scandalized I asked, “A vote?! What do they think this is? A democracy? I’m not looking to be the boss but at least I recognize that there is one. For pity sake.”

Sawyer almost had a lima bean go down the wrong way. I usually try not to comment on the family business, or at least not much, but that bit of grumbling got away from me. Sawyer didn’t mind. “Ha! Well they know different now. Even Gramps finally got a glimpse.”

“Er …” I sputtered, wondering if I had strayed into or encouraged something I shouldn’t have.

“I finally told everyone that the responsibility of protecting the Hartford Family Trust had been placed in my hands. And I was also to protect the Trust and what it represented from Hartford family members as necessary. Not if, but when. I started explaining age, cost of medical care, taxes that were still due and already a year late, burial expenses, and all the rest of the details no one wanted to have to know about because Gramps and Uncle Mark had always taken care of it for them.”

“And?” I asked despite myself.

“And then Uncle Mark came in with the stuff he’s good at like the charts and dollar amounts and his version of reality checks. And most of them now say they understand and are onboard since we also included things like pensions from the Trust and a few other items Uncle Mark and I have been kicking around as incentives. Of those that say they understand I’m even willing to believe ninety plus percent of them actually do. Of those that claim they still don’t’ understand, most of them are because they don’t want to understand rather than being unable to understand.”

Because I was honestly curious about the reaction I asked him, “What did the family think of you requiring everyone thirteen and older to attend and be part of the family meetings from here on out?”

“Not sure what to think of it for the most part but they’re willing … not like I care about their willingness but whatever it takes … and none of them seem to grasp that I’m trying to make sure the younger kids are ready for the responsibilities that are going to be on their plates, as well as the realities of what won’t be happening. Some of them assumed their parents would be paying for college for them. And to be honest, some of the Aunts and Uncles were surprised at what their kids were assuming.”

“Maybe that’ll start some conversations at home.”

“Maybe. Sheridan …”

“Which one is he again?” I asked because I’ve never really gotten to know a lot of the younger cousins. Way too many Hartford boys to keep up with.

“Ben’s youngest brother.”

“Oh, okay. Wears the hearing aid.”

“Yep, that one. Anyway, he wanted to know if he could earn some college money since he didn’t want to farm or be a mechanic like his dad and brothers. I asked him did he have an idea of what he did want to do, and he said … get this … he said he wanted to make numbers sit up and dance the way Uncle Mark makes them do; that numbers behave a lot better than people do. We’ll we’ve worked it out. Sheridan would be a Freshman in high school if he wasn’t a year behind because of the school shut down. As such, he still owes Uncle Ben a year of his time but once he qualifies for high school we’ll see if there is a way for him to be in the academic track but also maybe do an apprenticeship type thing with Uncle Mark. It was the family watching us work that possibility out … benefits Sheridan, benefits Uncle Mark, takes a worry off Uncle Ben’s mind of what to do with a son so different from the rest, and could ultimately benefit the family at large having someone that can eventually slide into Uncle Mark’s boots … that seemed to get some of them thinking about things in a different way.”

“And maybe not looking at you like the bad guy all the time?”

He snorted as he took his last bite of ham and said, “I’ll believe that when I see it, but all I really need them to do is to stop wasting my time fighting the same battles over and over again and expecting a different outcome. The Farm isn’t going to survive if the only thing it is about and is expected to provide is money.”

See, that’s what I mean. Sawyer … is different. He got stretched and pulled by things happening to him and it’s made him have a bigger view of his world. He lost his parents early, faced some personal troubles that started that. Marrying me with my issues and being responsible for this place added to it. But I think Burt Sr. opened that door wider by giving him a chance at arranging trades. I also think he received an education being a contractor out in the world and seeing the kind of harsh realities of life no one wants to see. Barb says Huely is different too but not as different as Sawyer is. Huely got beat too far down I’m thinking, had his pride and ego cracked too far down the midline, but he’s grown more than a little bit beyond most of his cousins as well. I tell you Uncle Forrester couldn’t be prouder of him. He especially likes to see how loyal that Huely and Sawyer are to each other.

A for instance of that loyalty is that people were talking about maybe repurposing the house that Huely and Barb used to live in. Sawyer was going to shut that down flat out, but Huely surprised everyone by saying he’d agree to that if there could be a way found to convert a triangular shaped lot that is just outside the rear entrance to our land so that it could fit a house. After the meeting he and Sawyer talked it out.

“I … didn’t know how to bring it up Brother. Barb and I can’t live on you and Kay-Lee forever. And what happens if we have another kid? Fill your house up and not give you any room to work with? You’ve already got two you are raisin’ and Barb thinks maybe one of the reasons that you and Kay-Lee aren’t trying for a kid, even if it does turn into some work, is that you are putting us ahead of your stuff. I don’t want trouble between our women either. And if I know those two … wowee I don’t want to get caught tryin’ to make plans without ‘em.”

Wowee was right. But … I knew it would eventually happen. On the other hand it won’t be happening until next year because even with Uncle Mark helping to make “the numbers sit up and sing,” supplies for building are in short supply and the permits are hard to get right now and it is going to take some in the family a bit to come to terms with the fact that the Trust isn’t a democracy and the family aren’t a flock of chickens where some can get pecked to death.
 
J

Jeepcats27

Senior Member
WOW, I wonder when the elders are going to see that they took the responsibilities and consequences away from their kids by handling everything for them, so they never learned the adult lessons they need now?
It is scary how I see this actually happening in some of my family!
No Trust involved but kids feeling the parents should just hand out the money regardless of what they actually do with it
Thank you for the chapter, Kathy!
Yeah, Kathy is definitely a wordsmith that makes "the words sit up and sing!!!!!!!!!"
 
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Kathy in FL

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________

Chapter 132​


“Whew! I could smell the smoke as we pulled up in the yard.”

“Gee, thanks Barb,” I said, taking no offense because I knew she didn’t mean any. For some reason she takes it as a happy kind of challenge to get me to smile. Which I gave her to prove it. “How did your ‘date’ go with Huely?”

An open-air market has been set up every Saturday at the old flea market grounds. It isn’t near as big as it used to be, but it serves its purpose. Barb answered, “Better than fine. Anna-Lee even behaved and didn’t fuss until right as we were getting ready to leave. I wish you and Sawyer would have come. I got some new recipes to try and Huely picked up a new hat.”

The hat wasn’t just a want but a need. The straw in his old one was so cracked and holey it could barely do the job of keeping the sun out of his eyes and off his head. Sawyer still preferred his old ballcaps, but I’ve had to sew up a few of them enough I’m going to ask him to retire them before they fall apart completely.

“Did you hear me?”

Whoops. “Sorry, I was thinking about a couple of Sawyer’s ball caps. What did you say?”

“I said you look tired. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine … just still dealing with the shock. I don’t know why. Huely is acting better than I am. So are Uncle Ned and Gramps.”

“Huely and Grandad had an understanding. He does his grieving in private and appreciates that you’ve done it publicly for him.”

Not wanting to really get into it and have to explain that with Uncle Forrester gone to his Reward I feel like my handicaps stand out even more. It makes me sound like it is all about me and that I’m being selfish. That’s not it at all. After how frail I was earlier this year it really isn’t surprising that I would overheard some people at the funeral wondering when I would be next. Not if, but when. It has opened a door in my thinking I hadn’t wanted opened, especially since Sawyer and I had been talking about maybe … maybe … trying for a kid now that Jolene isn’t a baby anymore. I asked instead, “Did you find any of the other stuff you were wanting so you could move?”

She came over and sat down beside me at the table where I’d been organizing my plans for the rest of August. “Are you sure you are okay with us moving?”

“I wish you and Huely would stop worrying that to pieces. Uncle Forrester wanted you to have the house. Gramps and Uncle Ned agree. And Uncle Ned wants the corner property so he can move that Little House that was abandoned out on the highway onto it. He’s been itching for more independence. You know how he is.”

“And how. And … and it seems providential. But you know I don’t mean nothing bad by that. Right?”

I nodded, Sawyer and I have discussed the same thing. “Are you sure you’re going to be able to handle your sister? The Red Cross said they aren’t really sure if she would fully recover from this fugue state she is in. Or are they starting to call it selective amnesia like Aunt Dump has said?”

“She knows who she is most of the time now, just not the right age. Huely too and she’ll run and hide behind him when she gets scared.”

“Still surprise him when she does that?”

“You have no idea. Every once in a while some things come out and … My Lord Kay-Lee, who would think in this day and age a group of Native Americans would make a play for taking over land to create a new Nation and then run up against some Mexicans thinking to take that same land back for their country, then all the farmers and ranchers that got caught in the middle? It sounds like there was a rift in time out there and all sorts of things were going on.”

Anna-Lee picked that moment to tune up again … girl is even more particular about being fed when she is hungry than all the Hartford males are … and while Barb when to go feed the bottomless pit, I needed to finish up what I was doing so everyone else’s dinner could get put on the table on time.

I’m grateful that Aunt Dump “has found purpose” or whatever you want to call it and has done most of the taking care of Barb’s sister. She was a little too focused on me for a while. Barb’s sister is more little girl than grown woman with great big gaps in her memory and needs a lot of watching because of this. She’s transferred her affections to Uncle Carl and prefers to think of him as her father. She still remembers her mother on occasion but calls Aunt Dump “momma” more often than not, even when she does seem to realize that is not who Aunt Dump is. Barb is the only one she remembers with any consistency. Barb and Huely. That’s the only reason that the Red Cross was able to identify her amongst the wounded they discovered when the US Army put down the Cartel Coalition and destroyed their encampment. They’d gone out to rescue the Native Americans only to find the situation far more complicated than anticipated. It’s been in the news a fair piece and everyone has an opinion on it. My opinion? Two wrongs don’t make a right and when people try to change that universal truth, innocent people get hurt.

I started neatening up the piles of papers on the table. I feel a little behind but not much. Uncle Forrester pretty much forbade a fuss being made. He had started not feeling well at all and knew his time was coming. He’d laid the law down, made his wishes known and wouldn’t stop until it was all agreed to and written in stone, otherwise known as Sawyer and Uncle Mark putting it on paper and having it notarized. He parceled out some odds and ends that he’d held onto over the years. Got in touch with Jamison who said he didn’t have a problem with Huely getting the house because he was working on one with his wife up in Tennessee and there he intended to stay because it was a healthier situation for them and him. When it did happen it was fast, from death to burial the next day since Uncle Forrester wanted to be buried like the Mennonites without embalming and a simple casket that Uncle Ned and Gramps had already built for him … one of those things he insisted on. Uncle Junior has even put up a headstone for him. On it is written, “A saint I have not been. I want my mistakes remembered so others learn from them.”
 
Kathy in FL

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________

Chapter 133​


“Babe, you got time to go over some stuff?”

I turned from the sink and said, “Just me?”

“Yep,” he said getting up and bringing his plate over from where he’d been late coming in. “September and October it is going to be back to just you to do things around here – with the move, Burt in school, my time taken up by the Trust – and I wanna make sure you have everything you need. If we get that handled, I want to look ahead a little further too before we do your exercises. I think I might have a source for your Naproxen.”

“Nothing risky Sawyer,” I told him after finding out some of the risky things he’d been willing to do on my behalf while I was so frail.

“Not risky. The CI has agreed that being triaged doesn’t mean people shouldn’t have access to basic OTCs and those little blue pills fall under that category, especially as they are generic. It is a quality of life issue, not necessarily what people were trying to make of it on The Hill,” he said, meaning Washington, DC.

“I wish you wouldn’t worry. I know … look I know I could have done things different over last year. I know my limits and I don’t want to turn into just another burden for you.”

He sighed. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like a burden.”

“You didn’t make me. I was a burden. Maybe that was just my life happening but …”

He kissed me to shut me up. Sawyer still gets a haunted look in his eyes when that time comes up. I avoid bringing it up for that reason, not because I’m necessarily ashamed. “Let’s just look at things and get organized,” he said. “I’ll dry and put away if you’ll finish washing.”

# # # # #

Anna-Lee’s tank was topped off and she was asleep until the next feeding. Barb was asleep and Huely was as well up in their bedroom. Jolene had nearly fallen asleep in her dinner plate because Burt had been home and played her out hard teaching her about chickens and goats and how they were nice but that they were food not pets and needed to be taken care of that way. She went to sleep the rest of the way listening to Burt read to her from the book he’d been assigned to write a report on, and Burt wasn’t far behind her.

That left Sawyer and me. Sawyer could have used some sleep but I think he also needed to talk.

“I have August all figured out, there’s only a week left as it is. What do you need to know about September?”

He sighed in aggravation. “I feel like I know more what is going on with The Farm and The Trust than I do what is going on at my own house.”

“Well that’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” he asked, bordering on being upset.

“No. You check the calendar every morning and night and ask questions when you need to,” I reminded him. “Now seriously, what is bothering you?”

He looked out the screen door into the darkened yard. The dogs were laying on the porch so I knew nothing was out there that needed investigating. I waited Sawyer out and he finally said, “You’re gonna be alone most of the time. You’ll even have to supervise the crews. Things are hopping on at The Farm so much right now that … that I don’t have any choice but to be there to keep the shenanigans down to a minimum.”

“Shenanigans or meanness or stupidity?”

He looked at me and saw his prevaricating hadn’t hidden all of it. “Yeah, there are some still playing dumb and some planning behind my back. I might just send Crawley packing next if Uncle Junior don’t get him under control. I know he isn’t a Hartford, he is a nephew on the other side, but he seems to think he has more to say about the way things are run than he does. The problem is he isn’t a bad guy, and could be useful, but he’s got a way of setting Uncle Mark’s back up that isn’t helpful. And while he thinks he is looking after Uncle Junior and them, he’s actually creating problems that he doesn’t want to see. He grew up with the older cousins until he went off to law school but that don’t mean nothing to me, not really, and he thinks it should.”

“I thought he was only going to be here until his leg healed. He’s been off crutches since June. What’s the hold up?”

“He doesn’t have a job to move back to and his parents took in some other family and don’t have room for him.”

“Oh, that’s nice.”

“Yeah, ain’t it. Them kinda things is mostly the reason that Crawley spent all his summers here growing up. But he’s messing in things that aren’t his to mess in, no matter his motivations.”

“Any way to get him a job in town, like maybe working for the CI?”

“And why would I do that? He’d have more of a chance to make trouble!”

“Would he? The CI runs things with that iron fist you are always talking about. And he is the one that approved and signed off on those papers personally. Add to that you and the way you’ve got the Trust working makes him look good and have an easier time of it out here in the county than he might otherwise have. Let Crawley learn a few facts of life and maybe not only will your problems with him be over, but he might just come to see things your way.”

He looked at me and then scribbled a note to himself in the paper he always keeps tucked in his front shirt pocket. “Maybe I should bring you to the family meetings.”

“No thank you.”

“Babe …”

Sticking to my guns I said, “No. We’ve discussed this and nothing has changed my mind including you. I’ll take care of Sawyer Hartford’s home and land. I’m not getting drawn into the Trust or any of the rest of it.”

“No one understands why,” he told me.

“So? They made their choices and I’m making mine. They are your family and always will be. I refuse to let anything change that. But I am not going to be used as a pawn to start any arguments. Or a distraction to keep work from getting done and that’s exactly what some of them will try and do and you know it. I’ve heard tales from Aunt Dump and Barb both and I believe them. Some of the wives are still spitting nails because the canning parties aren’t being held here. They say that it should since it makes up for me being a burden on you.”

“You are not a burden or a complication or whatever else you’ve called it and I’ll be damned if I’m going to put up with that nonsense.”

“Maybe not, but it doesn’t happen more seriously only because I refuse to get pulled in again. Looking back there were plenty of places I could have – and should have – stood up for myself … for us … better. I didn’t because I didn’t want a fight or thought they couldn’t mean what turns out that they do mean.”

“Did, but not do.”

I shrugged, trying not to show him how much it still bothers me. “I’m less sure of that than you. And no, this has nothing to do with vengeance either. Avoiding that temptation is why I keep my nose out of the Trust.”

With serious concern he asked me, “You gonna teach that stuff to Burt, Jolene, and any … er … any kids we might have?”

I snorted. “I’ll protect them from it, but I have a feeling they’ll wind up having to learn it on their own even if we don’t want them to. What do you think Burt is learning by seeing how some of them in your family have and are treating you? Any of them ask, then explain it that way. And then ask them why their kids have been sent to school up on the other end of the Trust acreage while Burt goes to the school set up on this one … and it was a teacher that asked for it to be done that way.”

“What the sam hill? When did you hear this?”

I explained, “At church a couple of Sunday’s ago when Brother Don broke up that fight amongst those boys. Apparently the Hartfords your age earned their reputation for being mean and wild and the younger ones aren’t doing anything different but making it worse and for less reason. You better warn some of their parents that trading partners are starting to rethink trading when their kids are getting what they consider the wrong end of the stick.”

“Why haven’t you said anything?!” he asked, just this side of outrage.

“Because it isn’t your job to raise those boys and I heard Gramps mention to Mr. Thoroughgood, their Sunday School teacher, that he’d have a word with them.”

“I ain’t gonna raise ‘em, but I might just pound ‘em into the ground. Knothead Part 2 is not something I need, especially not going into the fall harvest season.” He sighed. “I’ll talk to the Preacher, see just how much trouble has been going on. Let’s table that for now Babe. I want to at least get through September and October before I fall asleep and leave you to close down the house.”

“You don’t do that all the time, rarely even, please don’t feel so bad. You were tired last night.”

“I don’t even remember you taking my slippers off and pulling the quilt over me.”

“Which only means you were as tired as I said. Now what about September are you wanting to know?”

In answer he said, “Well I think I got a handle on the cash crops. We still have a couple acres of bush and pole beans. Do you have enough in the kitchen garden for what you want?”

“And then some, for canning and drying, so I’m going to let our portion of stuff out of the fields go to seed so it can be saved for next year in case getting seeds is as hard as it was this year.”

He relaxed. “Thank you. Some of the Aunts are aggravated they’re having to give up some of what they thought they’d be able to hold back for the family.”

“It is being held back for the family, just not as food to use over the winter. It’ll be there for just in case, but if it isn’t, sure will be nice not to have to pay for the favor of buying seeds from those people in town.”

“Uh huh and then some. Er … you think you’ll have enough lima’s to go to seed so the family can trade for some?”

“I’m not just going to give ‘em away but yes, I’ve already started to let the inside rows dry on the bush. The town will get a good percentage of that but … yes, I’m holding plenty back. And I’ll continue holding them back until spring so the seed doesn’t get eat up on accident or for any other reason. And if they don’t like it, just blame me.”

“I’m not going to blame you for nothin’,” he said, indignant that I’d even consider it. “They don’t like it then they can figure a way around it.”

“Sawyer, they want them for their kitchens, not their kitchen gardens. They’ll keep ‘borrowing’ seeds all winter long until I don’t have any come spring planting season. I’ve already had a few of them ask for a couple of pounds of the beans when they dry. The only reason they’d needs pounds is because either one, they’re going to try for a cash crop of them or two, they plan on eating them and not planting them. The other day Aunt Dump brought me a message from a few of the wives asking me to hold some pounds back for them and I sent a message right back that I’d have some for trade come Spring but right now I’m waiting to see what the CI is going to want, and the rest are going to get treated before storage.”

“And are you?”

I nodded. “Yes, some. That man from the nursery has agreed to show me how to do it properly in exchange for a few of the varieties I have, or will have.”

Carefully he asked, “You sure you know what you are doing?”

“You aren’t insulting me by asking so get that out of your head. I’ve read how to do it several different ways, but I’m mostly worried about damp. I’m going to have to store the seeds in the basement, not the root cellar. I just don’t want to go to all the work of holding seed back if damp is going to cause mold or any other mess.”

He nodded. “All right let’s try it your way this year. Wouldn’t hurt my feelings not to have to spend money we don’t have to buy the seed for next year.”

“Let me guess, they are trying to say you don’t need your share to come from the cash crops since you’ve already got a farm to grow your own.”

“And they can kiss my …”

“Sawyer.”

He snorted. “I’m a Hartford. And I’m busting my … er … keester over there. They’ll pay out with what’s left over after we turn the percentage over to the CI’s food programs or I’ll sell all of it and hold the profit until January to pay the taxes with. But that’s not going to happen because they don’t want me to take cash out in payment for my duties as Trustee. I’ll get paid out in crops and we’ll just have to figure out how to handle it. Now check my list and make sure I haven’t missed anything. In September we have apples, cabbage, grapes, muscadines, okra, peanuts, pears, the last of the Irish potatoes, sweet potatoes, pumpkins, squash, and tomatoes.”

“You missed pecans. The trees are covered in them this year.”

“Enough to make a cash crop?”

“Uncle Carl seems to think so, especially after that crew cleaned out all around the trees and pruned out them dead branches. And thank you for that firewood by the way. Anyway, he spotted them when he was out there checking the apple trees. And before I forget it he wants to know what you think about him and Aunt Dump trading some of their fruit for some of yours come apple pressing time. And maybe some of the pears too.”

“What do I think? How about you tell me what you think.”

I shrugged. “I don’t mind as long as no one gives them a hard time about it. I don’t even mind Uncle Carl setting his presses up here if he wants to, but Aunt Pearl or some of the others can host the Harvest Party if the family has one this year. I’m not sure if our septic system can take that many people since you and Huely had to dig out the main line in May and found all those roots in the line and back into the drainage field.”

“You would remember that,” he said.

“Huh?”

“Sorry Babe, I didn’t mean to sound crappy about it.”

I just looked at him. “You know, setting me up for one of your jokes is not gonna stop me from making a stink if you do it again.”

His mouth fell open before he started snickering quietly so he wouldn’t wake the rest of the house. He leaned over and gave me a kiss for getting his goose and then we got back at it.
 
Kathy in FL

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________

Chapter 134​


“I’ve got the cash crops covered now that you’ve added the pecans to my list. But can you tell me what you are going to be foraging and what you’re going to need for it?”

“Foraging or the kitchen garden, we need to be thinking about more lids for next year. I’ve finally run through nearly all of those you and Burt Sr. managed to get the first year. I’ll dry more of the fruit this year than I ever had, but only because you talked Uncle Junior into helping you to figure out how to build a real drying shed.”

“Didn’t really have to talk him into it to be honest, he was just fussing to fuss. And now he fusses because everyone else wants one.”

I chuckled a bit because I knew it to be truth because Uncle Carl was at the top of “I want one too” list and pestered his brother relentlessly until he got one. Sawyer knew the story too as it just so happened on a day that there was a coffee-like substance shortage that the Hartford men were all dealing with. Sawyer looked at his mug and pulled it protectively towards him. There were still plenty of green coffee beans hidden in the cellar in a 55-gallon drum but only because I piece them out with things like acorns, dandelion roots, and chicory.

“You have enough lids for this year?” Sawyer asked while scribbling.

“Yes, definitely since I don’t have to accidentally share them at a canning party.”

“And you’re still sure that …”

“Sawyer, please don’t make me.”

“You don’t miss the fun?”

“To be honest? No. I felt like an outsider in my own home, and I don’t want any fake stuff just to bribe me into trying to make things the way they used to be.”

He sighed. I took it the wrong way.

“Sawyer, I’m sorry.”

“What? Naw, this is your home and I more than understand where you are coming from and if I didn’t, trust me that Barb has explained it. I just don’t want you to be so lonely, especially with Barb moving into her own house and Aunt Dump starting to work part time in the clinic they are trying to set up for those that are triaged.”

“One, Barb deserves to have her own home. Her and Huely both do, and I always knew that’s the way it was going to be eventually. The fact that they get to have a chance to do it earlier than expected is a blessing not a problem and I’ll tell anyone that says otherwise. And Aunt Dump is so excited she just about vibrates out of her shoes when she starts talking about that clinic. Barb’s sister gave her the idea … or maybe it is the confidence is a better way of saying it. She can afford to since she knows that we’ll look after Uncle Carl if it comes to that. And help Barb with her sister.”

“Some of the others have mentioned it though and it has me thinking.”

I snorted. “Well stop. They’re pulling at your heartstrings but it is your wallet they are wanting.” He blinked at my plainspokenness but let me carry on to see where it was going. “They use the water and the wood and make for wear and tear on the house and yard. They want the stove and to split the work and not have to clean up the mess they leave behind. They want to be able to leave their houses and get together someplace else so they can party even if it creates some work. And they’re remembering all that’s out in the orchard here and everything else that I used to share out rather than watch it go to waste falling on the ground. Well, that fruit and such has to go to pay our bills now that we’ve found a market for it and there ain’t that much to spare. More than we had last year when the old CI stole it all but …” I stopped because I was getting wound up and likely to say stuff that needed to stay behind my teeth.

He nodded. “I suspected some of that, but I just don’t want you to feel lonely or cut off. You rarely leave our land. Rarely got to before things went to hell in a handbasket.”

I shook my head and wanted to yank some hair on the ones that were getting Sawyer wound up and upset, even if it is some of the Aunts. “Stop worrying that to death. Life is what it is and I’m making the best of mine.”

“Fine,” he said. “But you promise to let me know if you get to feeling housebound?”

“I promise but I’ve got so much to do that’s gonna be a long time off if ever so stop worrying at it.”

Sawyer has a bad habit of feeling guilty for stuff that isn’t his to feel guilty about. That’s why I try and control my mouth and the things it could get up to saying.

“Do you want a list of what I’m hoping to get in September?”

“I do,” he answered, finally willing to set the other subject aside.

I told him, “I’ve still got domesticated stuff that is going to come in from the kitchen garden like my herbs, the last of my cukes, those beets that are producing so late for some reason, that row of Nantes carrots that actually made despite me not getting the seeds in the ground on time, and all the different kind of tomatoes that came in that bunch of heirloom seeds you traded the last family of Mennonites that have moved off up to Kentucky rather than risk being part of the militia draft they’ve started next county over.”

A lot of people were worried the CI was going to start a similar program in this county but so far he’s not interested in teaching anyone how to shoot or handing out weapons to people that haven’t proven themselves that reliable at taking care of them or not trading them off. There’s too much of that that happens in certain areas in town as it is.

I continued, “Then there is the fruit that isn’t a cash crop such as the peaches that are back over with the quinces; crabapples, the black cherries that might not be worth anything as they are still pin cherry size though I hope so because I want some cherries; the wild plums that might make as well as they did the first year we were married; and pawpaws, persimmons, and the Autumn Olive berries. I’m hoping the chestnuts make but if they don’t it won’t break us. If they do I might see if I can send some to town and get something for them. That could be used to pay Burt’s school fees without breaking into the Penny Estate and cause tax issues.”

Sawyer was scribbling so I just kept going. “The kudzu will make till the end of time. You see how it came back despite being sprayed along the cuts nearly the old turn out and out behind the church. The more you cut the more it comes back and to be honest I wish my salad greens had done as well. I waited too late to plant it and even the cut-and-come-again greens bolted in the heat. At least I have seed for next year though.”

“Kay-Lee you were sick. And Barb as big as a whale. The domestic greens just weren’t worth the trouble this year. Next year will do better. I know you like your rabbit food.”

“We need rabbit food,” I told him though I let the subject drop. “I’ll do what I can to save the flour and cornmeal by cutting the amaranth heads from that field you let me broadcast seed in. However, we are going to have goat BBQ if them goats get in there again. As fast as Burt and I rounded them up, they still took nearly an entire three feet out from the fence all the way down that one side before we could stop them.”

“That ain’t the only reason we might wind up with goat BBQ. That billy takes aim at me one more time and you see what happens.”

I had to bite my lips to keep from giggling. It really wasn’t funny but … well, yeah it was. I cleared my throat and continued to avoid the subject coming up too much and me losing control and laughing. Sawyer was airborne I tell you.

“I’m not sure if I’m going to get any dogwood fruit. I know I wouldn’t get any if that snake hadn’t moved into the tree bedding and started controlling the rodents. I’m just going to have to wait and see how much damage was done.”

The face Sawyer made gave his opinion on the snake I wouldn’t let him “euthanize.” He said it was the longest coachwhip snake he’d ever seen, six and a half feet at least.

“The one thing I know I’m going to get plenty of unless things dry up all of a sudden are mushrooms. And I hope, hope, hope the highbush cranberries make this year because they didn’t last year, or the deer got to them before I could.”

“Babe, that sounds like a lot of work.”

“Nothing wrong with work.”

“What about Jolene? She’s going to be too big for you to even think about carrying and Barb won’t be around to help look after her and then …”

“Sawyer, I’ll figure it out. Burt can watch her on some days. Maybe you have to take her for a few hours on your ride arounds. Worse comes to worse she’ll just have to walk with me or I’ll pull her on the skiff. I have before.”

“I don’t want you hurting yourself.”

“I won’t do it if that becomes a problem but she’s a few years off from going to school yet and to be honest she needs to learn and get some exercise while she does it, not just be stuck in the highchair or playpen because it is convenient. Not to mention do you think … assuming we can even have one of our own … that I’m going to just be able to sit in a chair and put my feet up on a poof stool? Better to figure out how to do it now and maybe get some pointers from Barb as she goes through it first.”

“Barb says she got pointers from you watching you take care of Jolene.”

I shrugged. “Sawyer, stop worrying it to death. Seriously. You’re going to give me a complex thinking I can’t do things we need me able to do.”

“We’ll do it your way but … would you be against maybe hiring someone in to help out around here?”

“Excuse me?”

He looked embarrassed. “I’m not complaining, please don’t think I think less of you, but Delly had a woman that would come in a couple times a week back when Rissa and Burt Jr. were small.”

“That’s money I’m not willing to spend,” I said with what I hoped was enough finality the subject wouldn’t come up again. Then he gobsmacked me.

“Not … necessarily. There’s people falling behind on their bills in the cities … well just about everywhere to be honest. You’ve heard it on the news.”

“I have. What’s that got to do with the price of tea in China?”
 
Kathy in FL

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________

Chapter 135​


“Sawyer that’s slavery!”

“No it isn’t.”

“But …”

“Just hear me out. Yes, there’s a bit of investment involved. In exchange for paying off their debts – the people they owe money to are usually willing to take pennies on the dollar just to get some of their money back – the person agrees to a term of being indentured. The government is standardizing the contracts and times so that the person indenturing themselves for debt relief is protected and so are the people that agree to pay off their debt.”

“Sawyer …” I just shook my head at the very idea.

“Just think about it.”

“Think about it?!”

“Okay, instead of that how about you tell me what you don’t like about it … and try and leave the morality out of it for now because the contract that everyone agrees to is supposed to prevent those types of problems.”

Oh really, I wanted to say. I’d spent a lifetime in foster care and had seen the best and the worst of so-called social contracts where people aren’t supposed to get taken advantage of. But I tried to be reasonable so I was taken seriously. “First, they’re a complete stranger and we won’t know their background.”

“Government is supposed to set up a matching program.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, and they were supposed to match us foster kids with good homes and that didn’t always work out the way they claimed it would. Second, having someone under this roof is going to mean having to share some of our secrets … like the basement and the cellar.”

“Well, I know there are some issues we need to work through and discuss. But maybe we only have one that is day labor. That’s supposed to be an option too.”

“Like the agricultural crews?”

“Maybe; they haven’t worked out how it is all going to operate yet.”

I relaxed. It wasn’t a choice I was being forced to make right away. “Fine. I’ll … think about it. But let’s not make any firm decisions until the details are published.”

Sawyer looked at me and then nodded. “I can’t fault you there. If you’re willing to think about it, the least I can do is listen. But Babe, be serious about this. You may not like it but I … I just can’t see you getting sick again. It nearly killed me. I can’t lose you. I won’t.”

I sighed. “I already said I’ll think about it. Don’t turn this into an argument that doesn’t need to happen. I need to at least try and manage my own house and I want you to have some confidence that I can.” He opened his mouth to say something but I held my hand up. “Let it go for now please. You wanted to get through October for some reason or was that just a story to get me talking?”

“No. It wasn’t. I didn’t want you to think …”

“Sawyer, I’m serious. Maybe I’m being a donkey’s behind and over-sensitive but I already told you I’d think about it. So please let it go for now.”

“Fine. But I’m doing it because I care.”

“I know. And I never doubted it in case you think I do.”

He sighed and conceded.

“Cash crops in October … apples, dried beans, collards, muscadines, peanuts, maybe more pecans, sweet potatoes, pumpkins, winter squash, the last of the tomatoes … and that will be the end of the cash harvests. On the other hand, I’m hoping that Spring Wheat experiment pans out. We didn’t have the monster irrigator running so we might just have to turn it under if the seed heads don’t make, but so far we’ve had decent rain and the seed heads are making … they just need to fill out and then dry out.”

“And?” I asked to understand, not to be snarky.

“And we planted nearly ten acres and it isn’t a cash crop but an experiment for ‘animal feed’. If it makes food grade amounts, we’ll double the acreage after seeing how things go with the winter wheat we’ve planted that will get harvested next year. Right now it is being treated like that millet and rye you are trying so we don’t have to use all our corn to keep the chickens in feed.”

“And what will that get you ‘cause I know you invested in that ‘experiment’ from this farm’s payback from what was stolen from us by the former CI.”

“Yeah I did,” he said with a little bit of satisfaction. “No one else would except Uncle Mark and Gramps so if things turn out we’ll be the ones benefitting while maybe getting the tax bill back under control before the interest eats us up.”

“Us,” I said with a snort. “They better appreciate you still thinking in terms of ‘us’ and not just ‘them.’”

“Babe, if the acreage only makes at worst forty bushels per acre – and I’m honestly hoping for closer to 50 or 60 – that means with ten acres planted that’s four hundred bushels. Each bushel of wheat is equal to forty-two pounds of flour once it is ground. Forty-two times four hundred is 1,680 pounds of flour. I put in 75% of the cost of the seed wheat …”

“What?! You didn’t tell me … never mind, just finish so I can understand.”

“It was while you were so sick, and I was looking for a way to make some money, so you didn’t have to work so hard. I know it is long view thinking, but it is going to pay off one way or the other. Even if the wheat heads fail, it is going to save having to buy feed for the cattle to over-winter on. We’ll turn them out to forage on the wheat. But if the wheat does make, and makes a minimum of the forty bushels per acre and all the rest of the math we just did, even after paying The Farm for the use of the land, I figure we’ll still come out with a thousand pounds of flour. That means you won’t have to scrimp just to make the biscuits, or work so hard to pay Burt’s school fees. And we’ll replace your crutch, or at least get it fixed, and you’ll have more support if you need it. We’re also thinking that if this works out to plant an equal number of acres in oats that will further save the cost of animal feed. Then there is the sorghum that Uncle Ned suggested we try.”

I was getting upset until he said “if.”

“Doesn’t that … doesn’t that make you happy?” he asked me when he saw the look on my face.

“Sawyer you make me proud all the time, every day. You come up with some of the most amazing plans that benefit even the most ungrateful in the family. But I’m also ashamed that I was acting so churlish there for a bit. I … I … I just hope you can be as proud of me as I am of you.”

“Babe, I am so damned proud of you … proud that you are my bride … gladder than I can tell you I had the sense to grab at the golden ring and marry you even though it scared me a little what I might be getting into … until you agreed we needed stipulations and never questioned me about it. I knew then we could make it work. Wanting to make things easier on you doesn’t mean any of that has changed. I swear it on everything I’ve got.”

“I … can’t seem to help the way I feel. I don’t want to mess things up between you and your family. You seem to be bringing them in line and working things out. I … I’ll try more. Brother Don preaching on forgiveness last Sunday made me squirm like a worm in hot ashes.”

“You said you’d forgiven them.”

“I have. I sure don’t want to carry that baggage around for the remainder of my life. But … I can’t seem to get beyond that. I can’t seem to take those last steps like Job had to to get back what he lost during the chess match between the devil and God. Sawyer …” Quietly I said, “I don’t know if I ever will.”

“Babe, you do what you have to, just don’t turn out like Old Man Baffa. You can draw a line with the family without cutting yourself up with what you draw that line with. I don’t want you to see you hurt like that.”
 
Kathy in FL

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________
john70 said:
wildfoods4wildlife.com

Dogwood, Flowering - Wildfoods 4 Wildlife

Citation: Guenther, K. (2017, January 12) Flowering dogwood as wildlife food [Web log post.] Retrieved: readers supply the date, from http://wildfoods4wildlife.com Getting Started This tree’s fruit ranks #3 on the Favorite Fruits List of valuable wild fruits for our fauna. Thirty different...
wildfoods4wildlife.com wildfoods4wildlife.com
Click to expand...
This one (below). At the end of the article are some interesting recipes.

stuffsure.com

Is Kousa Dogwood Fruit Edible? - StuffSure

Kousa dogwood fruit is not only edible, but it is also delicious and nutritious! Learn all about the kousa dogwood fruit and how to enjoy it.
stuffsure.com stuffsure.com
 
K

K.B.

Member
Cornelian cherries (Cornus mas) are the best dogwood fruits that I have tried. They are very tart and have big pits, but the bushes are big and set a lot of fruit. I did not enjoy the kousa dogwood fruits that I have tried. I would stick them in the edible group, but that is about it.
 
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