0098

Another perfect day weather-wise, but mentally I'm out of it.

I have only vague ideas on how to go about moving the coop. I procrastinate, mixing & moving the compost pile, and checking the truck's points. Then I decide to try something. So I dig more around the coop's perimeter, then sort of wrap the base of the coop with large poles, snugged tight with wire. I put a log chain on this frame, and try pulling with the truck. First time, the engine stalls. Next time I give it more gas, and the wheels spin uselessly. The coop hasn't budged; I guess that old shed has grown roots or something.

I quit early, taking a walk in the south woods to familiarize myself more with the land back there.

0097

Chilly nights, warm days - close to 60° today.

I muscle the outhouse across to a spot behind the garage, and fill in the hole. It has been unused for so long, there's no odor. Patch it up a little; maybe I can store things in there.

Spend the afternoon digging around the perimeter of the chicken coop. Clearing stuff out, I find an old, dried-up skunk carcass inside; apparently, this was the skunk's home. I'd rather house a few hens instead.

This will be a bigger challenge to move. 8' x 16', and the inside walls are plastered (!), so there will be some weight to deal with. I won't be able to muscle it, but maybe with a little help from my truck (what was I saying about good vs. bad technology?)... anyway, I'm willing to give it a try.

Speaking of the truck, it seems to be in running condition now. I'll want to use it on the road as well as for moving small buildings, so I put the title and plate applications in the mail.

0096

No, I'm no Luddite. I keep coming back to the Amish and Mennonites as role models. Not a rejection of technology, but a careful, critical selecting of only the best technology, that which is truly beneficial, and not just more wasteful gadgetry. I would really like to wean myself from the internal combustion engine; there's an example of poor technology, extremely wasteful. But I don't yet have the resources to keep a horse or donkey, and I don't know how else to haul stuff around.

So, after splitting and stacking more wood this morning, I spend some time changing spark plugs in the 'new' 1983 Toyota pickup, to get it running a bit more efficiently and reliably. Then back to the firewood, finally getting all the wood stacked from those tress felled last spring behind the strawberry patch.

Get my grass blade and hack down the wild, unruly raspberries and other brambles surrounding the unused outhouse and chicken coop. I would really like to expand the garden into this space; I wonder if I can move these two little structures back out of the way?

0095

It has turned cold; clear, with a north wind. I spend the day cutting and splitting wood, and laying it up in the shed. Late afternoon, the neighbor kids come over for Halloween pumpkins, and after supper the boys come back up to toss the football around until dark.

Got a FedEx package the other day from my old co-worker Paul: a floppy disk, some hardcopy, and a request for me to look at a database anomaly. Tonight, Kathy from church drives up to ask if I can help reassemble her computer after her move into town. I agree to both requests. Kinda weird; here I am, thinking people must view me as a Luddite. It would appear that they still see me as a high-tech go-to guy. That's the weird part: maybe both monikers fit.

0094

A damp, cloudy, chilly day. I pull out tomato and pumpkin vines, and do a little digging to get a jump on next year's work.

When it starts to rain, I pick through the tomatoes in the basement, tossing and cleaning up after the rotten ones. Finish shelling out the bean seeds for next year, kinda time-consuming. Another example of applying little garden techniques to a big garden, and I may need to re-think this, to become more efficient.

Between sprinkle showers, I spade some of the oat ground. Notice some lettuce and scallions still hanging in there, so I pick some to have with supper, just for fun.

0093

Busy with miscellany the past several days. Have finished laying the vapor barrier under the attic insulation; I will need to add insulation there and in the walls - probably my early winter project. Also need to start cutting firewood in earnest; have taken just a couple dead trees so far.

Rained some last night. This morning is cloudy but dry, so I bike to Mass, and meet a couple new people afterward: Ken, a computer teacher, and Larry, a fellow gardener and recent convert. The rain has picked up again, so I stay awhile in the empty church, a little visit with Jesus in the tabernacle, then bike home in a light mist.

For my dinner, I start in on the all-natural beef just purchased from a local farmer, and open my own first package of frozen corn.

Upstairs, I find that my seed-drying table has been discovered by hungry rodents. I can't fathom how little mice could manage to jump that high, or climb upside-down to get to the table top, but they obviously have found a way. A highway, by the look of things. Sunflower seeds nearly a total loss, as well as all my best watermelon seeds and garlic heads. (I'm sure I just read from some credentialed expert that no other animals will eat onions and garlic, but humans only!) Is there nothing a poor farmer can do to protect his hard-earned livelihood? I will have to put all the remaining seeds into hard containers, and invest in some mouse traps.

0092

Right away this morning I turn to the tomatoes brought indoors - cut & cooked all the ripe ones, yielding 10 quarts of juice. Then a quick trip into town, stopping at church where the parish nurse is on duty today. She looks at my red, itchy arms and tells me that, whatever I have, it's not scabies, or anything like that. Well, I'm glad to learn that much - no apparent connection, then, to my constant grubbing in the earth. May just have to let this run its course.

More errands, phone calls, etc., and a stop at Lenore's for a burger, and to help winterize her place a bit.

Back home, I find 9 of the 10 quarts have sealed. I spend the evening installing an inexpensive ceiling fan to circulate the warm air in my main room. (My bed, stove, and desk are all in this 'dining room'; most of this big house stills contains little else but boxes, tools, and construction material.)

0091

It has turned cold, and frozen hard. The growing season is at an end.

I wake up cold in the wee hours, re-start the fire, and go back to bed until dawn.

Start the day's work by laying about 30% of the vapor barrier down under the attic insulation, a dusty job, moving the cellulose insulation to one side, then laying the plastic down, then moving the insulation back, in the cramped space of the attic.

I run out of plastic, and go outdoors, where the air is fresh and the day has turned sunny and warm - close to 60°. I dig all the rest of the potatoes and carrots from the south garden. Dig the 'experimental' potatoes, too - planted with seeds from a couple potato berries in last year's city garden. One hill looks like an interesting genetic combination - the potatoes are a soft, pink color. They're pretty small, but, having started from seed, they didn't have the good start that those planted from tubers had. I'll save these as seed potatoes, and see what they yield next year.

I put these and the carrots away in containers of sand, and lay an old door down on blocks to serve as a shelf for the green tomatoes to ripen indoors.