Chapter 13: A farmer's day is never done and an ultimatum is issued

I used the tractor to spread the rotted peat over the proposed garden patch. The soil conditioner dug down over fourteen inches to distribute the peat and aerate the soil. We planted the garden including transplanting the tomato seedlings and setting the potato hills. Then I set the fence around the garden.

The next time I went into town I bought a bolt-action .22LR rifle with a low-light scope and a brick of ammunition. I thought about what might be coming to dinner and bought a .22 WMR (magnum) bolt-action rifle, again with a low-light scope. I have seen forty pound raccoons. Last, I bought a couple pair of dark green coveralls and some scent-free detergent. It was time to go on dusk and dawn critter patrol.

I got my fair share of rabbit, porcupine, raccoon and opossum. I kept the porcupine to butcher and discarded the rest. The dogs fought over the carcasses.

To butcher the porcupine I used a propane torch to scorch the needles, and then used a pair of pliers to get down to the skin. From there it was business as usual. I grilled the meat and thought it quite acceptable. I'd eat that ahead of a lot of other game meats. I'd eat raccoon if I had to but it'd need a long-term stewing first.

One morning I was standing next to the second barn, looking around and trying to figure out what was missing. I looked at the mangers for the cattle then out at the field. "Shit. I forgot the fencing. Ah, crap."

Fencing is laborious work that takes nothing but time, time and more time. Fuck it. I called the contractor. I had him fence in eight acres of mixed-use land with three-strand barbed wire. With all his other commitments it would take about a month.

The clover was filled in and the grasses were up. It was time for the beef and the deer to be shipped in.

This is how I spent most days.

4:00 get up, get dressed and watch the garden for critters until dawn.

6:00 have breakfast, feed the dogs, take care of the chickens.

7:00 wake up the kids and get them going.

8:00 have a cup of coffee and a pastry. Read the paper online.

10:00 watch the kids. Stop the end of the world. What a couple of drama queens!

12:00 feed the kids lunch and eat myself. Clean the kids up.

2:00 walk or drive around the property to get away from the kids.

5:00 apologize to the kids for not being there for the end of life as we know it. Have dinner.

6:00 do a little writing behind locked doors.

7:00 scout the field for an hour.

8:00 have a drink. Do more writing.

10:00 go to bed.

The kids were taking over my life! I was not Daddy Howard or Uncle Howard, dammit!

The day of reckoning came about. It was a rainy day and everybody was stuck in the house. I was relaxing in the hot tub when the kids asked to come in as well.

I said "Sure. Get in your bathing suits and come on in." I surreptitiously took a capful of the pint bottle the pharmacist had sold me and dumped it in the hot tub, then swirled it around. I leaned back to watch the fireworks. Sure enough, as soon as they crawled in Tim got a goofy little look on his face. The water started turning orange. I stood up and went into full rant mode.

"Goddamit! You come into my home, take up all my time, blame me for not wiping your noses and then you PISS IN MY HOT TUB! I'M GONNA HANG YOU UP BY YOUR ANKLES AND BEAT YOU LIKE A REDHEADED STEPCHILD! RUN! RUUUUN!!!

They scorched out of there like I was shooting at 'em.

I was draining the hot tub when Julie came in to check out what all the commotion was about. "They didn't really pee in the tub, did they?"

I pointed at the remaining orange water. "Organic indicator I got from a pharmacist. Yep, he did, and grinned at me all the while, the little snot. Lady, your kids are out of control and I'm tired of playing nursemaid to 'em. Either you get 'em under your thumb or I'm gonna scare the stuffin's out of 'em with the Sears Island ghost bear."

She went back to their suite, hopefully to talk some sense into them. I didn't hold out much luck as six year olds know everything. I spent the next day preparing my little ghostly exhibition. I'd found an old car fender at the camp ground. I cleaned the rust off of it, ran it over to flatten it out and used a plow to make "grizzly bear claw marks" in it. Then I went to town to rent a couple of documentaries from the library. They were both on grizzly bear behavior and grizzly/human interaction. The hardware store had a large boom box with a good base register. I copied three tracks onto a CD from those documentaries. One had the sound of a grizzly snuffling at a window. One had the sound of a grizzly breaking into a pickup in which someone had left a burger king wrapper on the seat. One was the roar of a territorial adult grizzly male pissed and standing on his hind legs. I was ready. All I needed was one more thoughtless action on the kids' part.