0090

Six months since I purchased this place -- am I glad I did? I survey the garden and consider how I've succeeded in harnessing this small piece of the untamed wild. The sobering news is that our industrial, Waste Management mode of consumerism is doomed to implode. The good news is that if an inexperienced boob like me can wrest a livelihood bare-handed from the earth, anybody else can, too. All that is required is proper motivation, which, I suppose, will be provided by the inevitable implosion. I'm a futurist of sorts; folks will learn to live the plain life when they have to so learn. And when the general implosion occurs, folks won't have to go solo like this; the whole society will be in the thing together, with each one able to contribute his particular talent. Not to say that it will be easy, but, after a few lean years, I think post-industrial life might be rather pleasant. (If I had a beer in my hands, I would now take a swallow, heave a sigh, and say, "Ya, ya ya".)

I finish pulling corn stalks in the south garden, chop the oat/grass area, and make a compost mound. Pick a few nearly-ripe tomatoes. Turning very windy and colder; a frost warning for tonight, but I don't believe it; it's too cloudy for frost, so I don't cover anything up.

Have washed clothes several times in the past week, a time-consuming task with the wringer washer and outside clothesline. And hot baths every night, with whole-body OTC scabies medication, trying to eliminate the itching.

Finally receive a reply from D.O.T. to register the truck, but there's a complicated fee schedule for farm vehicles, and something about getting a temporary plate first. Does this bureaucratic maze have a purpose? Makes a guy almost hanker for the implosion.

0089

Experiencing a lot of itchiness lately. Have I picked up something from working with the earth so much? I've been quite conscientious about bathing every evening, and washing bedsheets and clothes often. Anyway, today is a nice autumn day, so I wash laundry and hang everything to dry.

Spend the bulk of the day digging potatoes, washing them and setting them on a screen to dry before storing them down in the basement. Bring the laundry in when clouds move in, then back to digging. Cut up and cook a bunch of softening apples for sauce.

Wander about in the woods close to the house this evening. The fall colors fill the air with loveliness.

0088

Quite warm today - upper 60's, I think. I weed the strawberries a bit, and pick another box of green tomatoes to ripen inside. Pick enough green beans for supper plus 2 portions in the freezer, but many plants are dead now. The garden work finished, I install some wiring in the garage, including prep work for an outside outlet.

On the south side of the garage, the bees catch my attention. They're busy in this mild weather storing up for their winter larder. The incessant departures and arrivals from the landing board, like a busy airport. I make myself comfortable, content to just sit and watch their industry for awhile. But something else today. Those two bees appear to be wrestling! Is an intruder being dealt with here? I move closer for a better look. No danger of getting stung as long as I move smoothly and don't threaten the hive. I'm just another immobile object around which they easily fly.

The smaller bee is an ordinary worker. I slowly realize that the larger one is not exactly an intruder, but a drone, and this hive is his home. Or it was. Apparently, he's being evicted; winter is coming and all useless eaters must depart.

The drone is bigger and stronger than his adversary, but she has a tight grip on one of his wings, so that he can't escape, and her weight and tenacious hold is vexing him. She has managed to get him this far, outside onto the landing board, and is struggling mightily, tumbling him as best she can toward the edge. Finally she succeeds, and they drop down to the grass, still gripped in struggle. Up onto a tiny twig he climbs, clumsily and with great difficulty, but she tumbles him, and, losing his hold on the twig, they both fall. Up and down, tumbling and wrestling this way and that, she drags him one centimeter at a time away from the hive. Finally, he manages to climb up a blade of grass where another blade crosses over laterally. With tremendous exertion, he climbs upward, where the lateral blade blocks his opponent's path, and she is forced to lose her grip on his wing. In a flash, he's up in flight, and back into the hive, where, I suppose, another worker will serve eviction again, until he is finally gotten rid of.

Such pathos! Such tragedy and comedy! Such life-and-death drama!

(Sigh) Meanwhile, I have work to get done before I rest tonight.

0087

The signs were there, so I covered the good tomatoes yesterday. And it did indeed frost last night, enough to kill most of the squash, pumpkin, watermelon, beans, and unprotected tomatoes. 2nd planting peas still look OK.

I decide to tackle those plumbing vents. While on the roof to cut the hole and put the flashing piece in, the chimney and roof cry out for some attention. So I tuckpoint the chimney a bit, and black cement the worn-thru tabs on the south slope. Worse than it looks like from below; I should re-shingle soon, at least the south slope.

Before calling it a day, I gather some of of the nicest green tomatoes from the dead vines.

0086

It still hasn't frosted, so I've been getting a steady supply of beans, broccoli, and tomatoes to put up for winter. Have spent some time in the basement, too, getting the grey-water drains connected. I still have to put the plumbing vent through the roof sometime before winter.

Discovered late yesterday that my bike's front tire is shot. So, since I have to use the car to get to Mass today, I take a trip into town, attend 10:30 Mass at St. Francis, and pick up the crippled bicycle I kept at Lenore's place, to use in fixing the reparable one. I also pick up more plumbing supplies, and run into Clyde, who has a good used bathroom sink to sell. Clyde is also willing to come out and help me insulate (which I should do soon). Then I stop on the way back home to see about buying a 2nd-hand well pump. A pretty productive trip. Never like to drive to town for just one thing.

Towards dusk, I tramp back into my woods, and almost get lost again. I still don't know my way around back there.

0085

I don't think it got much colder than 40°, but there'll probably be frost before long now.

I need to lay up a good supply of firewood. Having already felled a couple trees with my ax, I'm confident that I can do this, and become more proficient with practice. But I should have good tools. So I drive into town, get some household supplies and plumbing fittings, and buy a good ax with a fiberglass handle, and a small electric chainsaw.

0084

The sun has come back out today, so I put thoughts of the furnace behind me (for now), and take to outdoor work. Dig potatoes, pick green beans, tomatoes, 2nd crop peas. Take most of the sunflowers to hang-dry inside the garage, but have lost over half the seeds to varmints already - just another thing that has gotten away from me.

Warm and sunny enough to make the rainwater almost bath-warm, but by late afternoon the temperature is plummeting, so I throw a tarp over the tomatoes by the garage, in case it frosts tonight.

By 9:30 pm, it's down to 46°.

0083

The monsoon continues - rained off & on all night, and continues today, so I'm in the basement tinkering with the furnace's electrical system.

I'd like to heat solely with wood this winter, but this is a pretty big house, and I'm not sure how well one stove in one downstairs room will work. My idea is that maybe I can override the automatic furnace controls and use its blower and ductwork to move warm air throughout the house. After studying and rearranging the wiring, I succeed in getting the blower to come on without firing the furnace. Then I put things back the way they were. Or, at least, I try. ("The red wire was attached to this screw, right? Or was this black wire connected over here? Oh, my.") Now I'm confused, and I can't get the furnace to come on automatically with the thermostat.

You know, maybe I was counting on this furnace more than I was admitting to myself. I had a few fires going back in April and May, but that was pretty mild weather. Goofing up my furnace like this kinda has me worried, to be honest. Can I do this? Can I keep this old house heated through a whole northern winter, using just wood and a single wood stove? Well, if I can't get the furnace running again, I'll be forced to answer that question the hard way.

0082

The old car is fine, and the Harvest Festival is a thoroughly positive experience -- a gloriously sunny day, I sell all my veggies except for a few pumpkins & squash, and net about $100. I even see lots of old Duluth friends, and make a few new ones.

Lenore comes with a friend, and then rides back to her place with me. We share a nice supper, and I drive back home after dark, by which time it's chilly and raining.

0081

Cool weather, no bugs. Work a long day, getting vegetables ready to take to Harvest Fest: dig & wash potatoes, beets, carrots. Pick a few cucumbers and summer squash, and even pick the rest of the 1st & 2nd planting of sweet corn. Most of this is too hard & dry to eat, so will become seed for next year, but a few may be salable. Pick underripe tomatoes, too, to save them from the gopher or whatever has been eating them, but will not sell them. The Tercel is packed & ready, hope she makes the trip OK.

0080

Rained all night, but cleared up right after dawn to another breezy day. I finish organizing the garage, and put the roof back on the pump house -- very pleasant to work outside and not be eaten by bugs.

I pick all the corn I can find and spend all evening cooking, cutting and freezing, over 20 pounds of kernels. Guess I'll be eating corn this winter.

0079

Spent Friday morning cleaning & organizing some more and baking some quiche and apple pie. Phyllis, Ray, & Mom came around midafternoon. Phyllis & Ray stayed in the Stockade Motel in town, while Mom stayed out here with me. Too wet & foggy for sight-seeing, but they seemed to enjoy seeing my old homestead and hearing of my plans for it, tramping through the woods, picking veggies, sitting around, talking about family & religious matters as well as farm life, a good family experience. On both Friday & Saturday night, Mom & I played rummy till bedtime. And not a word of complaint about my primitive accommodations; she's a humble lady.

Sunday, I drove Mom to town where we met Phyllis & Ray, then to Lenore's for Mass and french toast after. Then they drove back to Mankato with some veggies in their trunk, and I came back home, too.

Today I occupy myself with various things. Clean out the extra shed for some firewood storage. Start chopping up some of the old oak logs that have been lying outside for years, discarding the real soft parts.

Decide to open up the bee hive, and extract by hand a small amount of honey - about 3 pounds of nice, light honey. Should really find an extractor to do a better job.

Pick carrots and corn for supper, and freeze 4 portions of corn. The 2nd planting is starting to get overripe now.

0078

Picking stuff for my table, I find a couple more tomatoes damaged by a raccoon or skunk. This was rarely a problem in the city garden.

I cut away the leaky pipe joint, and re-do it with new fittings, then pressurize the system. This time everything looks good, so I go ahead and hook up the one-pint SeaLand toilet. Seems to work OK - for now, it's just running into a covered bucket in the basement. Putting in a composter will be next.

Phyllis, Ray, and Mom are still planning on coming up tomorrow, so I spend the rest of the day cleaning and organizing the house - as much as this construction zone can be cleaned and organized.

0077

Another beautiful day. After Lauds & breakfast, I patch the privy roof, then make a list of all my errands, and drive into town. I deposit the savings bond from Dad, and buy plumbing fittings and other supplies, then to Lenore's. I use my city bicycle from her place to run a few more errands, including to D.O.T. to register the truck. But walk-in citizens are punished (you have to pay an extra fee for them to take your money) and these Wisconsin employees refuse to disclose policy details, so I will have to do this via mail, I guess.

After lunch with Lenore, I use her phone to call about buying beef from a local farmer, and look into possibly selling produce at the Harvest Festival in a few days. Also pick the brains of a couple plumbing guys about the circulating hot water idea.