Tag Archives: Eve Pawelski

New pitch for my unpublished book

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This post is for all of my new Twitter and blog followers (sorry for the repetition to my longtime followers).

Back in the winter I wrote a book about my wonderful wife Eve’s life on the farm and our media and public policy work. The title of the book is:

“Muckville: Farm Policy, Media and the Strange Oddities of Semi-Rural Life”

I have an editor but I am looking for a publisher. It’s an odd sort of book that doesn’t fit neatly in any real sort of category. It’s about farming and the strange stuff we deal with but mainly about our struggles in dealing with government and trying to change things from the ground level.

This link covers some of that policy work:

http://digital.turn-page.com/i/102943/3

If you happen to know anyone that might be interested in such a work please feel free to pass my info along. I will give you lots and lots of onions!

Below is prologue and a word from Eve:

PROLOGUE

 

Muckville.  I can see you asking yourself now

Why should I care about a book about farming? Or one about public policy advocacy and dealing with the media? Or a about a book that combines the realities of farming with agriculture-specific policy, advocacy and dealing with the media?

We all have to eat. Every day if possible. Day after day. Until we die we have to eat. Food, along with breathable air, clean water and adequate shelter is one of our most basic needs. Since there are roughly 3.3 million farmers in the U.S. comprising roughly 2% of the general population, odds are you have never met a farmer. Despite the growth in popularity of Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) and local farmers’ markets it is most likely you have never met, spoken, smelled or touched a farmer.  Or set foot on a farm.

Though the United States was once a primarily an agricultural society and even as recently as the turn of the previous century roughly 40% of the population farmed, since then, and especially since the advancements associated with Norman Borlaug’s “Green Revolution” fewer and fewer farmers on less and less land space have produced one of the world’s safest, most abundant and cheapest food supplies.

And with that change has come an incredible level of disconnect between the people who primarily produce our food and the citizens who eat it. Sadly, when you mention the word farmer the first image that will pop into someone’s head will be Eddie Albert’s character Oliver Wendell Douglas from the CBS sitcom “Green Acres.” Or worse, some character from one of the various reality TV shows that keep popping up, and frequently aren’t so real.

Though farmers’ markets are exploding across the country and thanks to the foodie movement there is a strong renewed interest in agriculture, much of the information about farmers is not coming from us. Food critics and chefs will frequently pontificate about farming, and though some of them may have a small hobby farm, for the most part they are not farmers. They do not know what it is like, on a day to day basis, to be a farmer in the 21st century.

I simply don’t have enough heads for all the hats I have to wear. I have to be a soil scientist, a chemist, a financial planner, an accountant, a bookkeeper, a regulator, a marketer and frequently a public relations person and public policy advocate.

Farming today is governed by a myriad of laws and regulations that cover numerous aspects of our business on multiple levels. And there are so many groups, organizations and pressures out there trying to influence or change those laws and regulations on a seemingly daily basis.

In the mid 1990’s after leaving the farm a short time to pursue my graduate degree and after I married my wonderful wife Eve, I returned to the family onion farm. My brother and I are the fourth generation of the same family on a farm that started in the U.S. at the turn of the 20th century. As soon as I returned I started dealing with a variety of issues and crises, including weather disasters and various labor advocacy organizations. I was baptized by fire. Eve and I had to learn, for the most part on our own, how to fight for our farm and our industry. It wasn’t easy at first (for the most part it still isn’t now, 17 years later).  But, trial by fire typically isn’t.

So why is this all important to you? Because as I said, we all have to eat. It’s one of our most fundamental needs. You should know something about how your food is produced. Not from sitcoms, or from food critics or from chefs, no matter how well intentioned they may be.  You should know from one of us who produces it.

Now, there are some books out there written by farmers about farming. Many of those books are about the adventures of people who eschew urban or suburban life to move to the country and take up farming. They extol the benefits of a more simple life.

That’s not the point of this book.

Life is not simple, nor, quite frequently, very fair. A hailstorm that decimates your crop mid season or a hurricane caused flood that wipes virtually your entire crop away is not fair. And how you deal with those scenarios is anything but simple. I’ve dealt with those situations, sadly, more than once. I’ve also dealt with very stupid government programs and terrible proposed legislation. And over the years my wife and I have had a fair number of successes in dealing with such situations. That’s what this book details.

Though it is a memoir about my specific experiences on the farm and in front of a camera or on Capitol Hill, what I relate, the techniques and the tricks and methods of dealing with the media or developing grassroot strategies to fight for a given issue can be applied by you. No matter what you do, or where you live, or what problem you may be facing, my example can provide you with a roadmap to how you can successfully fight for your cause.

The system is messed up. It sucks, to  be quite frank. But my specific experiences show that if you are persistent and you have a fraction of a clue as to what to do, you can make a positive change for your community, too.

Why should you read this book? Because I need better informed end users of my product. I need you to understand why after a devastating hailstorm or flood I need your support and help. I need you to have a better connection with the people who produce the food you eat.  And, you need to better understand the people who grow your food, and how the policy decisions can affect every aspect of the food you eat.

Why should you read this book? Just as important as learning about how your food is grown, I want you to read it and to realize that you can get off the couch and fight for your family and your community. Though the deck is stacked against you, like it is against me, you can still effect a positive change. All is not bleak. There is hope.

I  want you to read this book so that the next time you walk into the produce section of your local supermarket you will pause for a moment and just think about what was involved to get those fresh vegetables and fruits on that shelf.

 

 

 

A NOTE FROM EVE

Muckville. That’s where we live, both literally and figuratively.

And every day something weird is happening on this farm. In the early years I kept waiting for it to end, waiting for calm. After 20 years I now realize that for better or worse, that’s just not going to happen.  Part of it has to do with who I married. I think he described it best one night when we were talking about how people react to adversity. He said, “People basically fall into one of two categories: sheep or wolf. And I’m not a sheep.” I think I am a sheep who hitched a ride with a wolf. When we lost our crop to hail the first time in 1996 and our insurance turned out to be worthless and I was pregnant and large amounts of debt loomed on the horizon, I was perfectly willing to throw up my hands, quit and go do something else. In that respect I think I am like most people. Life is just easier if you can go along with the flow and avoid the pitfalls.  But if everyone did that improvements would seldom if ever be made.

If I’ve surmised anything over the years, it’s that problems come about seemingly on their own resulting from a convergence of factors: a misinterpretation of a law or regulation, a quirky personality, a do-gooder who is just plain wrong, and/or a bureaucrat who refuses to do anything other than “the way it’s always been done.” The result is that change takes a lot of work but more importantly perseverance.

So what do you need to make a change? The first quality just about everyone has. It equates to “What the @#$% happened here?” The second quality many people have, “I’m mad. I’m going to complain to the proper authorities, and this will be fixed!” But there are a lot of problems out there and it is just as likely that your problem won’t be fixed. Sure some may complain for a while but at some point most people simply cut their losses and walk away grumbling. If you are really determined to make a change, it takes more than complaining. Change comes about because you can articulate exactly what is wrong and why, AND you have mapped out and researched what should be done instead. Only then do you have a chance. 

Chris (God bless him) has chronicled several things we have fought to change. Some of it is humorous. a lot of it comes under “You just can’t make that up!” and parts of it I simply cannot read because it was enough for me to live through it. We hope that you will be entertained and learn a little about production agriculture along the way. But what we really hope is that maybe the next time you see a problem, you will have the courage to be a wolf. 

A Wedding Anniversary to Remember!

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The following is an excerpt from my yet unpublished memoir, “Muckville: Farm Policy, Media and the Strange Oddities of Semi-Rural Life.” September 23rd is Eve and I’s 23rd wedding anniversary and this little vignette is about one of our favorite past anniversaries … enjoy!

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Happy Anniversary 2007

Eve and I were married in September of 1990. Being married in September meant that if we ever moved back to the farm our anniversary would always come in the midst of one of the busiest and most hectic times of the year for me. So, no “get-aways” or mini vacations for our anniversary, it would always be limited to a dinner out together, after work. In 2007 we went out to a local restaurant, Limoncello at Orange Inn in Goshen for a romantic dinner. My parents, who live next door, would usually watch Caleb and Jonah and they said they would again. It was a wonderful dinner and since it was our anniversary they gave us each a shot of limoncello liquor, which came after a few glasses of wine during dinner. At this point Eve and I are feeling good, Eve really good (since I was driving), if you know what I mean. So she’s feeling all romantic and fancy and would like this special moment to continue a little longer, if you know what I mean.

On the way home she called my parents on her cell phone to see if they wouldn’t mind watching our sons for a little longer. My dad answers the phone and Eve tells him we are on our way home and she gently asks if they wouldn’t mind watching the boys a little longer. Guess what … HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT SHE MEANT! He says, “I don’t think so, Gracie doesn’t feel that well and we’re tired, so you better pick up the boys.” Click. Eve growls, a soft growl She isn’t happy. And then a chain of expletives uttered forth from her mouth. It was potentially a wonderful moment temporarily dashed. So, we picked up the boys and later that night we picked up where my parents left us off, if you know what I mean.

The next morning we’re grading onions and my mom and dad are picking rots and I’m operating the barn forklift, like I usually do.  At the grading table are a couple of our Mexican farmworkers, a husband and wife who have a moderate grasp of English. Well, my parents wave me over to the grading table (which I really hate, because I jump off that forklift enough during the day as it is) and my dad starts to gripe at me. He says: “Uh, that was a bit much there, don’t you think? We watch your boys for the dinner and you want us to watch them longer (by the way, we called them at 7pm, not midnight). That’s a bit much.”

I’m stewing but I just nod and walk away. About a half hour later they call me back and my dad gets into it again. He says: “you know, your mother and I were just talking and we can’t believe you asked us to watch them longer. We were tired and your mother didn’t feel well. That’s a bit much, won’t you agree.” At this point the farmworkers are starting to snicker. But I said nothing and went back to the forklift.

They then called me over for a third time and once again my dad starts saying “that’s a bit much you know” and adds “and you mother wants to tell you too.” At which point I exploded “WE WANTED TO HAVE SEX! SEX! WE WANTED TO HAVE SEX ON OUR ANNIVERSARY WITH NO BOYS IN THE HOUSE. SORRY FOR THE REQUEST!”

Lydia and Geraldo the Mexican farmworkers who understood fully what was going on, including what Eve and I wanted to do the previous night, at this point burst out laughing. They clearly figured out what we wanted…. if you know what I mean. Then my mom and dad started to laugh and my dad sheepishly said: “Oh, okay.” He finally knew what we meant!

More harvesting ….

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So, you’ve seen a glimpse of what it looks like as we harvest on the field, well, here is what happens on the other end on the yard.

So, Eve shot this video of what happens when we harvest onions on the yard with our new Sony HDR-PJ650 Handycam. I then put it together in iMovie.

We finished harvesting a field of my brother’s transplant reds (Bejo’s Redwing) and moved on to start a field of my dad’s yellow transplants (Bejo’s Braddock). The music I added was the same music playing on my phone and into my earphones as I worked.

A first experiment with the new technology …enjoy!

About my book project and search for a publisher …

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You may not have noticed but I have an “About My Book” page on my blog. If you haven’t the text for it is below. It is what I wrote to describe it for my failed Kickstarter project (I did that at the wrong time).

Since I wrote it I now have a fantastic editor, Penny Steyer, who has actually read the entire 100K word draft and made a number of initial edits. Eve and I are going over it and will be meeting with her shortly to move forward.

But, we still are looking for a publisher. It is an odd book in that it doesn’t fit certain or typical farming related topics. For example, the newbie who lives in the city and moves to the country and becomes a farmer. My book is about both conventional farming as well as the nuts and bolts details of dealing with the legislative process, working with the media and accomplishing really good from the grassroots or ground level.

A lot of people complain about the system, but how many understand how it works, and how you can actually accomplish good? My book details that. It’s funny, sometimes irreverent, and mostly entertaining and informative. I wrote it with the idea of it becoming eventually a film or tv project. I think it has that potential.

So, if you are a publisher looking to take a chance on something just a wee bit different but very provocative and entertaining … well, you know how to reach me!

Here is a link to an excellent local news piece that talked about my project:

http://chroniclenewspaper.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20130404/NEWS01/130409992/Chris-Pawelski-stirs-the-muck

Here is the description found on my “About My Book” page:

I’ve written a memoir about my experiences on our 4th generation family onion farm and my very active volunteer public policy/advocacy experiences over the years (http://bit.ly/SGwZb8). I’m an outstanding researcher, a fantastic first draft writer but not a very good editor. My wife typically edits my work but this memoir is just too long (over 106K words) and personally too painful for her to tackle. Remember “The Farmer’s Wife” documentary that ran on PBS a few years ago (http://to.pbs.org/aUdsi)? The shared experiences and similar pain made it too hard for my wife to watch (see: http://bit.ly/WcHTrM). So, since my memoir details some painful memories my wife can’t do it. I need to hire an editor and being over $250K in the hole makes hiring an editor impossible without help (http://bit.ly/wpxL5z).

Once my first draft is edited it will be far more likely a book publisher or a literary agent will take it on. Now, obviously there are no guarantees that it will be published, but, I can assure you I’m a very good writer and I have had numerous unique experiences over the years, including securing a $10 million dollar special earmark that was part of the 2002 Farm Bill, testifying before the U.S. Senate Agriculture Committee, meeting and working with dozens of elected officials, including former Senator Hillary Clinton, Vice President Al Gore, current Senators Kirsten Gillibrand and Charles Schumer, amongst many others. I’ve also appeared in the media hundreds of times over the years, from the national press like CNN and the CBS Evening News and the NY Times to various trade publications and local press, to recently The Hindu and the BBC. I’ve even been quoted in Vogue (http://bit.ly/OqeFeJ). Now, come on, how many farmers do you know quoted in Vogue? Just google my name to see how often I’ve appeared in the media.

Secretary of Agriculture Tom Vilsack, in a speech delivered back in December of 2012, said:

“It isn’t just the differences of policy. It’s the fact that rural America with a shrinking population is becoming less and less relevant to the politics of this country, and we had better recognize that and we better begin to reverse it.” http://yhoo.it/VTM2fJ

I think he’s dead wrong, and it is exactly the opposite of what I relate in my book. We in rural America have been and continue to be relevant.

And my book is a positive story, because if you watch the cable talk shows and read people like Matt Taibbi (who I like very much) you walk away with the impression that the average citizen like you and I can never cause positive change, not without spending a lot of money. Well, no one has ever paid me, I have never donated anything to any politician. Not once have we ever been asked to do a fund raiser or donate, or even vote for the public official we work with. Hard to believe, but true. My story is in the end a positive, uplifting narrative.

Further, farmers and farming stories are really under-represented in the general media. I explain what is involved to grow and sell an onion, and how much, or rather, how little we make. It’s an inside story, one that chain stores don’t want the average consumer to know. I want to tell that story, to an even wider audience, hence why I have written the book and look to make it a commercial success.

I have a story that needs to be told. I’ve done the hard part in terms of the research and writing the first draft. That’s done. I’m almost to the finish line. Can you help me cross it by helping me edit and complete the work, making it more marketable to a literary agent or publishing house?

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Life sucks … but it could always be worse ….

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

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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

“Do you like sex?”

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Just got a call from credit card company representative to lower the interest rates on a number of my credit cards. Sounded like he was from India or Pakistan. He was nice and said the offer was not to transfer balances or open a new account but to lower the rates on existing accounts. I didn’t quite understand what entity he actually worked for.

I eventually interrupted him and told him my lovely wife Eve makes those decisions and calls. Here is the exchange:

Telemarketer: “But sir, your name is officially on these accounts … I must speak with you.”

Me: “Yeah, but she makes the calls.”

Telemarketer: “But sir, you are named as the primary card holder.”

Me: “Dude, are you married.”

Telemarketer: (pause … because he is caught off guard): “Excuse me?”

Me: “Are you married?”

Telemarketer: “Yes … why?”

Me: “I don’t think you are really married because you would understand that when I say my wife makes these decisions I mean it.”

Telemarketer: “But ….”

Me: “Do you like sex?”

Telemarketer: (pause, then a giggle) “Uhm … yes sir … I see where you are going with this … you do not want to sleep outside in the garage.”

Me: “I don’t mind sleeping outside … if I get sex … won’t get it for a long time if I pull the trigger here. You need to speak with my wife when she gets home from work.”

Telemarketer: “Yes sir … (laughing) I will have someone call later … and I hope you sleep with your wife tonight.”

Me: “Me too!”

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A Comedy of Errors … AND One Close Call

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Sometimes things can go wrong on the farm … and those wrong things can snowball into a chain of events that can ruin your day. Like yesterday. Allow me to elaborate:

On Friday afternoon into early Friday evening we sprayed 62 of our 99 acres of onions with some post emerge herbicides. Our new employee  Brendan drove the army truck around which is our tank truck and my dad and I sprayed on our two Farmall Cub sprat rigs. Overall things went well, until we about finished up the first big tank … my dad’s Cub inexplicably would not start without a jump. Uh oh. Well, we jumped it later and finished the 2nd tank for the 62 acres at around 7:00pm.

Saturday morning my dad called me early to tell me he and my brother changed their minds and wanted to spray their remaining 37 acres on Saturday, because rain was coming and you need the onions to have a good waxy coat to spray the materials we would spray. An onion develops a waxy coat with adequate sunshine and rain breaks down the waxy coat. Ok … fine … no problem.

MISTAKE TIME: My dad called the repair guy Kenny to tell him that his Cub was not taking a charge. That usually spells problem with the generator. My dad said he told Kenny we needed to spray still. Well, my dad and I went out to the fields to put flags in our spray rows and by the time we got back Kenny was already there and started to take the tractor apart. T was exactly what we thought … the generator. So I call my dad over and told him what Kenny was doing. and my dad rushed over to say to Kenny “Uh Kenny .. we have to spray today.” Kenny: (loudly and frustrated, because he started to take the Cub apart) “Well, nobody told me.” My dad sheepishly responded he did in his message … but I doubt it. Kenny is a good mechanic and the last thing I wanted to do was piss him off so I said, reluctantly, “Don’t worry, I’ll just spray  it myself.” We would have to do 2 separate tank mixes and spray at 3 different locations. Well … so much for drinking a 4Loko and mowing my lawn later.

The first tank, which was 7.5 acres at two locations, went uneventful and the tractor was parked at the second location, where I had 26.5 acres more to spray. The third location was 3 acres by the house. Okay, we mix the tank and get out there. I was still hoping to get to lawn mowing later. Now, as aI started to spray the second tank the sun was completely gone and clouds were really filling in. Next thing you know … a drop here .. a drop there. Oh brother. So, I spray 11 acres and move to the next section and as I go up the first field (this video shows what it looks like from my perspective to spray: http://youtu.be/UX089CSqNIw ) I look to my boom on my right and see a leak … a leak where chemicals are spewing out … not really bad … but bad enough. It’s part of the boom that broke the last time I sprayed and my dad’s fix didn’t take. So, as I am coming back down the field I wave to my dad to come to me. So, he has to call my mom so she can pick him up and he can get the material for the temporary fix … you guessed it … electrical tape. So, I have to sit there and wait for him to get back. He puts the tape on and now it’s not so much spewing … more like a weak pee stream (can I just say I’m ordering this on Monday: http://www.asseenontv.com/flex-seal/detail.php?p=346830 ) but, it’s acceptable.

But now, the rain is more of a steady drizzle or mist. I finish that 10 acre block and move to the last 5.5 acres at this location before we have to move one more time. As I am finishing spraying my radio ..my boom box … my source of music and what makes this job bearable … GETS FRIED FROM THE RAIN! HOLY CRAP, I AM NOW PISSED! (see photo)

I finish the field and try to load my sprayer on the truck … well the ramps are wet and I start to spin as I go up them onto the trailer and nearly flip the tractor. So, I yell to my dad to fill me up full and to drive the dump truck and trailer back and have my mom bring him back for the tank truck and I will drive the spray rig the mile or so down the road from this location tot he fields behind my parent’s house and I’ll spray them. In the meantime my dad and I are fighting … he’s blaming Kenny for taking the tractor apart and me for going along with it and I’m screaming no, after today we won’t need to spray for 2 weeks and he DIDN’T NEED TO CALL KENNY THIS &*%$#@) MORNING BUT COULD HAVE WAITED TILL TOMORROW, OR MONDAY OR TUESDAY ETC …!

I pull on to Pulaski Highway (the road is really wet) and only after maybe 50 feet or so I hear a pretty loud snap and the tractor bops a bit. So, while wearing my spray mask and goggles, going in third gear (maybe 12 mph or so), in the rain, with full tanks, I start visually scanning as I’m driving down the road to see what the hell that was … and I look at the front and then rear axles and then I see it (this all takes place in a minute or so) … on the one side it looks like 5 bolts are connecting the wheel axle to the frame while on my right side there looks to be only 2 bolts left and the axle appears to be separating … HOLY CRAP!

If the wheel separates I will obviously crash. I will most likely survive it … providing I’m not tossed off the tractor and crushed. But, I’m loaded with material. Now, it’s not much material … 35 gallons of water to the acre and the chemical is only 1.5 ounces to the acre so it isn’t a lot of material but still … if I crash and those tanks burst … holy moly what a mess that would be … assuming I’m not hurt that bad.

So now I’m just hoping I make it to my parent’s driveway … and then I am just praying I make it to the lawn.

I make it. My dad pulls up in his jeep and I wave him over. I start pointing to the wheel and he has this expression on his face of “oh crap!” So, he drives to get the forklift, so as to add some bolts and I have my mom take me for the tank truck. After bringing back the tank truck my dad tells me he couldn’t put in any replacement bolts because all of the bolts had been sheared off and a portion of them was still stuck in them. So he tightened the two remaining bolts and told me not to use the brakes.

No kidding dad.

I had just enough material to finish those fields and I gently drove the tractor back tot he barn.

Then my lovely wife came out to see why I was just getting back at 5pm. After I vented a bit she brought me a beer and things got a wee bit better.

Next week will be 4Loko lawn mowing time for sure.

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“Whupped em again Josie!”

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Real conversation alert from last night:

Me (contemplating deep thoughts while sitting on the toilet) “You know, a pear is an apple that wouldn’t. (pause) Do you like my little bit of deep philosophy I just thought up?”

Eve (going about her business): “No, a pear is an apple that couldn’t.”

Me: (short pause) “That’s just derivative of mine.”

Eve: “Yes … but mine is still better.”

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“Do I have to eat it?”

So, Eve decided to buy these Jimmy Dean breakfast sandwiches when she went grocery shopping on Sunday. First sign of trouble … Jonah yesterday.

Jonah: “Dad, do I have to finish this?”
Me: “Your mom paid a lot of money for it. Eat it.”
Jonah: “But dad, it’s gross. I can buy breakfast at school. Please!”

I wasn’t going to force him to eat so I gave him $3 and told him don’t tell his mom. This morning I spy Eve making some more of those things and I tell her what happened with Jonah.

Eve: “I might have made it wrong. You’re supposed to microwave it in a paper towel.”
Me: “I think it was more than that.”

A few minutes later Caleb came down and Eve gave him one of the two that she nuked this morning.

Caleb: “Jesus, this is disgusting. Do I have to finish it?”
Eve: “No. I just finished mine and my stomach is not making happy noises.”

Folks, it’s not a good thing when Eve’s stomach is “not making happy noises.” Thank you Jimmy Dean … may you rot in pre-fabbed sausage and egg sandwich hell.