Life sucks … but it could always be worse ….

Since last Thursday, as of this morning, we have gotten roughly 6 inches of rain. That included 2 inches from the latest event which ended last night. The various tributaries that feed into the Wallkill River, including the Quaker Creek (which much of my land drains into or is near) are very high, as is the Wallkill itself. Because the river is so high the tributaries are starting to back up and a small portion of my fields started to go a bit under water, but as of 9:00am the water began to recede.

I have an incredible ache in the lower part of the right side of my back. I can’t bend or move really well.

So, since I can’t get into the fields and I can’t take any more pain killers for my back to compensate, I decided to lay low and do the laundry for the week. I separated our laundry into 4 loads and loaded the first into our relatively new Samsung WF328AAW (http://www.samsung.com/us/appliances/washers-dryers/WF328AAW/XAA).

I don’t think we have owned it longer than 2 years. It was a $1K machine.

As the first load was about to start the rinse cycle a warning code popped on. “NF” I started to search for the owner’s manual and couldn’t find it in our mess of a filing cabinet. I then searched online and found it meant the machine couldn’t fill with water. So I turned it on and off and the machine started to work. It filled with water and started the rinse cycle.

Then it stopped.

Then the door unlocked.

Then the door popped open and the water just poured out.

OMG!

I quickly tried to close the door as the water rushed out. But I couldn’t, because the towels prevented it. I finally was able to shut the door but the laundry room was filled with water. And my back was killing me. I went down to the basement and got our wet/dry vac, which is functionally useless. It pits out whatever you are sucking in at a nearly equal rate. But, I was able to suck enough of the water up. I then called Eve.

Me: “Holy crap, the washer crapped out, it opened in mid rinse I have water everywhere. WHERE IS THE DAMN OWNER’S MANUAL?”
Eve: “You can’t find it? (hears my frustration, starts giggling)
Me: “This isn’t funny … I can’t find the manual, my back is killing me, the laundry room is a mess, we are almost flooding, this is terrible.”
Eve: “Did you get the wet/dry vac?”
Me: “YES! It sucks, or rather, it doesn’t! And I can’t find the one attachment for the vacuum cleaner because Jonah plays with it I am so pissed! And where is the manual?”
Eve: (laughing now) “Listen, man up!”
Me: “I am manning up … this sucks.”
Eve: “I’m on my way.”

I then called my dad and he brought the barn’s wet/dry vac, which actually opened up. He then opened the door to the laundry room and said “leave this open … it needs more air to dry!”

Ah, he worked in his obsession for more air!

Eve arrived, I eventually found the manual and we were able to run the spin cycle, getting the remaining water out of the machine. I then got a hold of the therapeutic massage person our family uses and made an appointment for my back tomorrow morning.

When I drove down Indiana Road most of the standing water had finally been absorbed by the ground and the water in the ditches and Quaker Creek continued to recede.

But at 3:00pm it began to rain … heavy, and cells from the north keeping going over us like a train. We picked up at least a quarter inch but the Village of Florida (where the Quaker Creek runs thru) was hammered. The waters will now ride again and who knows when they will recede … but hopefully they will recede soon (http://water.weather.gov/ahps2/hydrograph.php?wfo=okx&gage=grdn6)

One day at a time ….

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My piece in the Albany Times Union

Well, the Albany Times Union ran a piece of mine in response to an editorial on their part. I believe this is now the 5th or 6th piece I have had run in the Albany Times Union over the years.

http://www.timesunion.com/opinion/article/Farmworkers-are-already-protected-4586821.php

Here is the text in case you can’t get to it:

Farmworkers are already protected
By CHRIS PAWELSKI, Commentary
Updated 5:21 pm, Friday, June 7, 2013

As a fourth-generation family farmer at Pawelski Farms in Orange County, I can tell you the overwhelming majority of farmworkers in New York have nothing to do with the groups lobbying for the passage of the Farm Workers Fair Labor Practices Act or the issues surrounding it.

This is being driven by self-appointed advocates. Further, the act is not needed.

Numerous local, state and federal agencies oversee many laws governing the working and living conditions of farmworkers, making them among the most regulated and protected workforces. Further, a range of government-funded programs like free health care and day-care centers are provided specifically for these workers. Then, when you factor in the free housing provided by farmers, farmworkers compare quite well to other workers on the same wage tier. What evidence exists they are treated inhumanely or are not being treated decently? Farmwork is dirty, hard and entry-level employment. I know, I do it. But it is neither indecent nor inhumane.

This bill would disproportionately hurt smaller farmers. Larger farms that have multiple crews will be better able to juggle their work forces to mitigate the devastating impact of overtime pay, which is proposed in this bill. On my farm, with four employees, I won’t be able to do that. All I can do is severely cut hours during the growing season so I can afford my work force during planting and harvesting time, when I can’t control the number of hours worked.

Neither the proponents of this bill, supporters in the Legislature, nor the media understand basic farming production or marketing realities. New York is not like California; we have one, relatively short growing season. Farmers do not set their prices; our outlets dictate prices to us. No one has explained how I will pass on these increased labor costs.

If someone wants the benefits associated with factory work, they are welcome to work in a factory. No one is forced to work on a farm. To push factory rules on agriculture is foolish and grossly uninformed public policy.

Chris Pawelski is a resident of Goshen

I’m on the news … again!

As Tropical Storm Andrea targeted our region I was interviewed by intrepid News 12 reporter Carolyn Rowe regarding the potential impacts of the storm. As I told her, anything under 5 inches we should be okay, but if we go above 5 or 7 inches I sadly expect the Wallkill to flood.

And that river should be able to handle 5 or 6 inches. It is a disgrace that it can’t.

Here is the link for the story on the internet:

http://westchester.news12.com/news/orange-county-farmers-worry-about-flooding-1.5430157

Here it is on YouTube:

Knives on a plane … yeah, I’m against that.

The family was just having breakfast and a story came on the news about how the TSA has just reversed itself and will now not re-allow small knives on commercial flights

(http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-201_162-57587849/tsa-reverses-itself-no-knives-on-planes/)

REAL CONVERSATION ALERT:

Me: “You know, that makes sense to me. What didn’t make sense to me was the initial reversal. Why on earth did they decide to allow knives or small blades on a plane again?

Eve: (nose scrunched) “Well, a lot of people have very small knives or blades in their purse, on a key chain, etc ….”

Me: “Well, I really don’t want people armed with blades, even small ones, in a such a controlled environment 7 miles in the air.”

Eve: “Why?”

Me: “Allow me to quote a Klingon proverb: ‘Four thousand throats may be cut in one night by a running man.’ That’s a Klingon crew member to Captain Kang from TOS episode “Day of the Dove.”

Eve: (laughs) “Okay, a Klingon proverb, my morning is now complete.”

PS: Here is the quote in Klingon, for all of my Star Trek friends:

  • Klingon (CSUR):         
  • tlhIngan Hol: qaStaHvIS wa’ ram loSSaD Hugh SIjlaH qetbogh loD
  • Literal translation: While one night happens, a running man is able to slit four thousand throats
  • Klingon soldier, Star Trek: The Original Series episode “Day of the Dove
  • Klingon language source: The Klingon Dictionary, Marc Okrand

    http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Klingon_proverbs

Link

A fantastic story on WAMC!

Check out the story by Allison Dunne … fantastic!

UPDATE ON DRUNKEN MAN IN ROAD POST!

I just spoke with one of my workers, Juan, asking him if he heard what was going on last night (I noticed last night the lights in his and the other Juan, Shorty’s place were on as we were on the highway).

Juan: “Yes, but we didn’t know what was happening. I called my friend this morning Mario and asked him what happened?”
Me: “Wait, you know this guy? Named Mario? Works for the Koreans?”
Juan: “Yes, Mario, he works for the Koreans, he was hanging out, drinking a little with us.”
Me: “WHAT? He was here?” (I’m no longer holding back my laughter)
Juan: (starts laughing) “Yes … he left okay. So I called him and asked what happened. He said he had too much cerveza.”
Me: “I guess … (laughing) … he didn’t get very far, probably about 200 feet until he passed out on the road.”
Juan: “I keep asking him this morning, ‘wha happened,’ he don’t know.”

Morale of the story: Friends don’t let friends drink and walk, especially on busy highways and if they are so drunk they can’t walk farther than 250 feet.”

“Hey dad, it looks like a roadblock in front of the house!”

Yesterday was a very long day. We were set to spray the entire farm (99 acres) with herbicides. It would take three big tanks of the tank truck even starting at 7 am we wouldn’t finish till late afternoon.

We had an unexpected setback during the day, delaying us for hours. Hence, we didn’t complete the job, leaving 15 acres to do today and we didn’t finish working last night until 7 pm. Did I mention it was hot? (See the image below to see what I wear when I spray herbicides) After a shower and a store bought sandwich and doing all of my e-mail replies and late computer work … and being thoroughly exhausted I finally went to bed by 10 pm.

I was awoken at about 2:15 am by Caleb. He had gotten up to go to the bathroom and called out “mom, dad, it looks like a roadblock in front of the house. Sure enough as we looked out our bathroom window (which faces west) Pulaski Highway in front of our house was blocked with emergency vehicles and trucks and cars with flashing lights. But we didn’t see and evidence of a crash so we thought, maybe it was a literal roadblock. Could some escaped fugitive be heading our way?

I had to find out, so outside I went. I could see what looked like one police car and one ambulance. Two officials were talking to someone along the road, but I couldn’t make the person out from the distance. Closer to me were a group of civilians and I approached them. I quickly recognized my fantastic neighbor Diane Matuszewski (of the world famous Quaker Creek Store: http://www.quakercreekstore.com) I also saw her son Matt. I asked her, what’s up?

She said how a friend of her son’s was driving on Pulaski Highway after coming back from Quick Chek (my dinner source a few hours previous: http://www.qchek.com) and she happened to see a body half lying in the road.

Me: “Was he hit?”
Diane: “We weren’t sure. She called us over, someone else called 911. The scanner was saying a heart attack. He was half in the road, half to the side, and he didn’t appear to be breathing.”
Me: “Lucky he wasn’t hit.”
Diane: “I know. But the funny thing was he had his cell phone to his head, and his other hand was outstretched holding the cover. So, the EMT person took his pulse and it was extremely weak. Then, all of a sudden, he stood up and started talking.”
Me: “Who is he?”
Diane: “He’s a Mexican farmworker, said his name is Mario.”
Me: “MARIO? He works for me, my main man for the last 7 years. Holy crap!”

I turned behind me and could see the lights for my farmworker housing. Oh, crap. But as I walked closer, much to my relief, I could see it wasn’t the same Mario. Thank God.

Diane: “I asked him if he was drunk and he said no. But he has to be drunk. Do you recognize him?”
Me: “No, I don’t.”

As I got closer I could hear the Warwick Town cop and the EMT guy questioning him. They were insisting he had to go tot he hospital to be checked out. As one of the other EMTs took him to the ambulance I asked them what he said. He told them something about he was drinking down the road and works for the Koreans and lives somewhere along Pulaski Highway. I told them I didn’t think the Koreans had housing for their workers. They said he lives like a 20 minute walk from where he was drinking. He told them he was drinking at the Farmworker Community Center, known as the Alamo, but I told them that is impossible, they don’t allow that there and they close early on Saturdays.

Before they took him into the ambulance he said he was “walking with his amigo” who is somewhere around here. The cop starting shining a flashlight in the brush along the highway. We all started peering into the grass along the road. We didn’t see any signs of anyone, so either his friend just left him to sleep it off in the road, had passed out at a different section of the road or never had a friend with him to begin with. What was amazing was this guy had to be stone cold drunk yet he wasn’t bobbing or weaving at all, but was standing straight as an arrow.

We all agreed that he was lucky to still be alive. people do not typically obey the speed limit of 45 mph on Pulaski Highway (http://youtu.be/JqHW4VUk3o0), especially on the stretch by my house, and at 55 mph or faster you would probably not be able to see him in time to avoid him, from where he was passed out. Though Pulaski Highway is a very heavily traveled road the entire time this whole incident played out, which was 45 minutes or so, only a couple of vehicles came by and had to turn around or wait to pass thru.

Diane and I told what happened to our neighbor Mike and his daughter, then we parted ways to head back to bed … after laughing over the whole situation.

Once again our favorite phrase on the farm came to mind … you can’t make this sh*t up.

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WHAT THE HELL IS THAT SMELL?

So, Joey and I are out on a field of onions down Indiana Road going thru the fields doing some cultivating on our AC-G’s with a Buddingh Basket Weeder (http://www.buddinghweeder.com) and I called my dad to pick us up at noon or so.

I see him come down Indiana and stop at the bridge in front of the field. I park the tractor about 25 feet away and I am hit with an overpowering smell of skunk!

Me: “What the hell happened?”
Dad: “I caught a skunk, a baby skunk in a trap by the house … I let it out, put some cardboard over it … it didn’t spray me.”
Me: “You stink … I can smell you 30 feet away … it had to have had sprayed you.”
Dad: “It didn’t … I don’t know.”

At this point Joey pulls up with his tractor. I yell to him that my dad stinks. He yells back “No kidding, I can smell him from here … what the hell did you do?”

He repeats what he told me. Joey takes his shirt and covers it over his face. I have my head sticking out the window. Joey climbs into the back of the jeep from my side and cries for dad to open his window. he can’t … it’s broken.

Me: “Oh my God … this is terrible.”
Dad: “Ahh .. you eventually get used to it.”
Joey: “No you don’t. This is awful.”
Dad: “Maybe it sprayed on the ground and I sort of stepped in it. It could be on my shoes. I don’t know.”
Joey: “Gracie is going to love you. You better stay out of the house. And change your clothes.”
Me: “Pour gas on your shoes.”
Joey: “No, pour diesel fuel. That will take it out.”
Me: “I can’t breathe. I’m going to gag. This is horrible. Don’t touch anything in this truck.”
Dad: “You get used to it.”

As we drove past the Quaker Creek Store (http://www.quakercreekstore.com) my dad says with a smile “hey, you can smell the lunch special at Quaker Creek.” I replied with “Are you crazy? I just smell skunk.”

After I got home I called my mom and asked her if she could smell him.

Mom: “Yes! Are you nuts. He left his clothes outside.”
Me: “What was it on?”
Mom: (laughing) “He thinks now his pants were sprayed.

Just another day on the farm.

The usual and some wacky odds and ends ….

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So … first, I’m looking to buy a used jeep to replace my ailing Ford Explorer/Eddie Bauer. Been on Craigslist for a few months and finally spotted a potential up in Rock Hill, NY, about 45 minutes north of me. My dad called the guy and we set off to look at it this morning. On the way dad and I chatted … here is the best exchange:

Dad: “I went to see the urologist yesterday morning.”
Me: (pausing from texting and perked up for what was about to be delivered) “And?”
Dad: “The doctor wanted a urine sample, but I didn’t have to go much. When I handed it to them I said, ‘my fluids are low, if I was an engine a check fluid light would have gone off to alert me.'”
Me: “How on earth did they react?”
Dad: “They laughed … that’s cute isn’t it, it just popped into my head.”
Me: “What did mom think?”
Dad: “She said ‘that’s not funny Richie!'”

Before we knew it, we got to the exit off of NY 17 for Rock Hill. The seller told my dad to call him for final directions when we got off the exit. The exit ended in a t and we chose to slowly go to the right. I tried to call the dude but the phone eventually went to voicemail. We pulled off the road and I tried again. On the third time he picked up. It sounded as if I woke him up, or he was stoned. I told him we just got off the exit and he said to go left and then said something about a sharp curve and even after repeating himself four times I could not decipher the rest of what he was saying. We proceeded along slowly and within a half mile or even less we saw the jeep.

As we pulled in the driveway we found debris everywhere, toys, and just general stuff, including what appeared to be a ripped open bag of garbage. Shortly after we got out of the car the owner appeared. We shook hands and then he proceeded to back the truck up for us. There was considerable more rust and damage than he indicated in the ad … and the truck was a filthy mess inside of it. My dad says to the owner “looks like you put up the picture of the good side” and then chuckled like he does. The guy either just woke up or was on something. My dad says to him “there’s quite a bit of rust here” and he responds with, a bit loud, “what, are you crazy?”

I just want to get out of there … we are on the border of the lands with the sort of people that make you squeal like a pig … if you get my drift, and I don’t want to irritate anyone. I’m giving my dad looks to shut up, which he never saw. We left it with I would get back to him.

Me: “I don’t want that, it’s not worth a fraction of what he’s charging. And it was filthy inside. Who sells something like that?”
Dad: “I know, and did you see the cup holder? It was wet … with something sticky in it.”

My dad made a point of mentioning this to me like 3 times.

On the way back my dad says:

Dad: “What a mess outside, what do you think it looked like inside? I wouldn’t give him $100 for it. And the wife was still sleeping he said …at 9:30, still sleeping.”
Me: “I know.”
Dad: “One time a couple of years ago I went to see an air compressor that I saw an ad for. Place looked like this one outside. The guy invites me inside … he has the compressor in his BEDROOM … in his bedroom (chuckles). What a mess, guys sleeping all over. I was going to buy it but he said ‘how do I know your check is good?’ What does he think I’m going to do, it’s a good check! I ended up not buying it.”

I thought this would be the most interesting exchanges for me today. But I was wrong. At around 1pm I got a call from someone in Goshen. Speaking of “squealing like a pig” as I mentioned before …

Me: “Hello?”
Woman: “Is this the farm on Pulaski Highway?
Me: (short pause) “Uhm, yes, one of them.”
Woman: “One of them … good. Can you tell me who has some pigs? I have a bunch of relative from NYC who are coming to visit today. They have a bunch of small children. They’d like to see some baby pigs. Know where we can find them?”
Me: (holding back laughter … and thinking about my friend from the Ukraine Boris who stopped at the farm a few years ago looking for “back fat from pig, 2 to 3 inches thick, 2,000 to 3,000 lbs”) “Well … offhand no but let me ask my friend Maire at Cornell Cooperative Extension and see what I can find out. I’ll text her and call you back.”
Woman: “Thank you!”

About an hour later Maire texted me back and said she knew of no one locally that raised pigs, or had a petting zoo like that, but, they could go to Bellvale Farms Creamery in Warwick and they have tours of their dairy farm on the weekend and great ice cream. So, I called her back, related the information and she was very excited and thanked me profusely.

Strangest thing today … of course the day isn’t over yet.

My quite intelligent son who suffers from short term memory loss now has a NYS Driver’s Permit … LOOKOUT!

Yes … today, my son #1 caleb got a 95% on the written permit test and has been awarded a NYS Learner’s Permit to drive … on the highway no less.

I say he suffers from short term memory loss because frequently I ask him to do something … like take out the garbage or clean the cat litter boxes and he looks at me, nods his head, says “uh huh” and then goes back to what he was doing, ignoring my request.

I love him but … ARRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!

It was my first trip to a DMV in something like 29 years … I now know why I have not returned in so long of a time. They make you go through the initial line twice, then take a number like you are asking for cold cuts at the deli counter at Shop Rite. While we waited a very scary woman kept staring at me with big bug eyes … I should have gotten a picture. Instead, all I got was one shot of the deli counter number.

When I got home I took a ride with my dad and told him Caleb passed the test:

Me: “Yup, Caleb passed the permit test.”
Dad: “What? First I hear of this.”
Me: “We literally just got back.”
Dad: “I didn’t know he was going.”
Me: “I told you yesterday … well he has it now.”
Dad: “Good, he can drive the 3rd AC-G and hook the onions with us on Monday.”
Me: “That’s the spirit!”

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