But we need the rain!
Yes, of course. And we’re Oregonians, so we don’t complain. A little funny, though, that Benton County said we could burn all day. Irony pinches, doesn’t it?
So we have traveled to the farm on Thursday this week to meet with Mark, the Cow Guy, but more about that later. First, we have many questions for Tyrone about the plumbing fixtures we’ve been working so hard to choose. At last we’ve found someone at George Morlan’s who seems equipped to manage the entire system of bathrooms. She tells us what faucet won’t come in what finish, what valve we must have in order to select which shower head, and what finish our choice won’t come in.
And so on. We arrive at the farm, in the deluge, duck into the now warm house and find Tyrone. Seems we need answers to certain plumbing-related arcana before we can proceed. Larry has the list, and we start in the upper, right-hand corner of the attic bedroom, determining which shower drain will fit which appliance. Who knew these things aren’t universal?
It’s fun to be in out of the rain, admiring the new shelves in the kitchen pantry, the moldings around the windows and doors. For a mysterious (as yet) reason, the upper guest bedroom has a regular cemetery of departed flies on the window sill, the floor. Why this room? Maybe one of our families will learn the answer when they visit us.
Our list checked off, we decide to take Bob-the-Truck out for a spin, to encourage the batteries. We’ll have our picnic lunch (that was an optimistic plan when I made sandwiches that morning). Forgot something back in the car, so Larry puts Bob in reverse. Bad idea.
Dennis, Excavator-Person, has been telling us that our “autobahn” was poorly constructed. And in fact, soft spots, ridges, torn barriers, seem to support his opinion. Apparently there should have been “dirty” rock chosen that will compact and become interlocked. Our rock slithers around, won’t join hands with one another, and thus, when someone, like one of us, veers too close to the edge, it’s up to the axel with Bob. The rain has provided a muddy trench into which we slid. There would have been no exit, were it not for Tyrone and Eric.
Tyrone’s giant claw has lifted the truck, and Eric and Larry man the shovels to create a gravel path back onto the road.
Tyrone looks like this is the most fun he’s had all day. Yep. Boys! But we love these guys and can’t imagine how we’ll run the farm without them when they pack up and leave for another job.
About that picnic?
Here we are at the Corvallis Les Schwab. Got the batteries tested and gave the Schwab people a hearty laugh at our expense. Of course we needed both batteries replaced. “When did you get these batteries, anyway? Government junk pile after the Korean War?” Ha ha.
Back to meet with Mark. Well, he’s not interested in working with us under the new scheme. Not enough pasturage for his animals. Hmm. Sub-text, he’s no fan of Fish and Wildlife who, I suspect he suspects, has stolen a good chunk of private land in the pursuit of conservation. Mark is a good guy, and needs to do what he does, which is fatten cows to feed our relentless appetites for beef. So, okay. Got it.
I’m surprised to find myself a little relieved. Guess I resent what the herd had done to the property last year, with too many cows (my opinion about the correct number of cows per acre, which would be about one per). Still, what now? Checked in with Steve, our consultant, but haven’t heard back. Plan B, I guess. Yeah, I like this development, though I admit I enjoyed the picturesque quality the cows provided.
Tomorrow we revisit George Morlan and, we hope, complete the dreary task of choosing plumbing fixtures. Hooray!