"Tomorrow I will start to prepare our other garden area, a large, open-ended hoop house for the big tomatoes and eggplant."
Didn't happen. Caught a typo in the above sentence, and that's about as close as I got to accomplishing what I had planned for today. Not gonna fret about it, as we were able to spend some time with a friend in need, chat with the mum-in-law and build some points, and talk poker with the bro-in-law who will be playing the June 1 PLO tourney at the WSOP. I walked Annie while he explained just exactly when he likes to bluff in position.
Of course there were chores (evening chores in a half hour). I watered. And I sold some plants from the farmstead.
I may have mentioned that I was asked to grow some onion starts for one of the grocer's customers. Walla Walla, a big, sweet onion that is delicious but a lousy keeper. I wasn't happy with how they came up, so I offered to just give the guy the plants with my best wishes. He honored my offer and came by to pick up the flat of about 150 little babies of varying size. I explained how I plant them, he asked a bunch of questions about soil health and temperature, and gave him a quick tour of the greenhouse. He picked up some summer squash and cayenne peppers, and dropped a double sawbuck on me for my efforts. Then we talked about holistic medicine a bit.
Interesting guy. Big black rig pulls up into the yard and I wave him on back to the greenhouse. Out steps a guy in a bandana covering of a length of hair and with a beard about a foot long. Can't say I saw that coming.
He has a firm handshake, always a good sign, and a ready smile. Introductions are made and the DW and friend go off to look at our garden. He's engaged with the information I have to offer on how we amend our soil. We discuss liming to neutralize the acidity.
I tell him, "I use Calpril and turn it in."
"Is that organic?"
"Organic enough. You can use lime too. Just throw it on top of the soil and let your irrigation take care of it. Tomatoes need it if you don't want blossom end rot." And who does? Romas are the most suceptible.
Lots of questions, most of which I can answer by referring back to when we used to be a bigger operation. And as I gaze out over fallow ground I find I have a need to explain.
He offers, "Well, I'm kind of a part time shaman."
Can't say I saw that coming. But then again, my son knows about 25 shamans in his tribe of 100 friends. They are quick to impart that part of their résumé. And then he tells me about the miracle of tumeric and MSM and a few other daily supplements, all of which I am very familiar, and take under a modicum of duress due often to the size of the pill or amount needed for maximum benefit. I could easily dispense with a meal and still feel full.
And then it was time for him to go. I helped him load up and noticed a large piece of corrugated cardboard in his bed. It had wring on it that indicated he had a birthday and a nephew.
"Yep, that is the biggest birthday card I've ever received. I use it to soak up the blood when I go hunting."
He was a regular guy after all.