Chapter 4

There was a stall that had electronics in it. It was apparently only open a short time each day and all day Saturday.

That gave me an idea. I went to the man attending the booth and asked, "Can you recommend a satellite company around here that is any good?"

He smiled. "I sure can. There is only one here in town that is worth a hoot, and he will also come and install in any kind of weather." The guy went for a card. "Tell Mervin that Jess told you to call. I'll get a little something for referring you to him. Get the works from him, as he's pretty generous. Call him now and he may install you tomorrow."

I called the cable guy on my cell phone. He was a hoot. Every other comment the man made was a joke. He should be on TV instead of some of the dull characters who are already on there.

He was a comedian, but he was also a decent salesman. He convinced me to buy a couple of packages that sounded interesting, and to prepay a year, while signing up for three. He asked if he could install me in the morning. I was giving him directions, until he asked, "Are you the guy that bought Eliza's place? I know who you are. You're the retired Army guy."

When I told him 'yes', he said, "You already have a dish. You need a new receiver card and could use one of the DVR recorders. Eliza's receiver was only good for a few cable channels, plus Lexington's. If you have more than one TV, I'll wire both so you can watch the DVR anywhere. If you get more TVs I can put another set box there, too. Shoot, the hardest part of this one will be driving up your road. I have a four-wheel drive, but you almost need an eight-wheel drive to get up on that mountain with snow on the ground. How about eight in the morning? I should be done by lunch. If you warm me up and feed me lunch, I'll give you some free movies."

I was enthralled with the guy. I wish I had a business so I could use him as a salesman. I was smiling when I hung up.

It had started to snow while Ben and I ate lunch at the 'Kitchen', the local diner, as a treat before starting back up the mountain. Ben pointed at a church. "That's the best church around. Actually, that is the only church around. There's a Catholic church down in Pine Ridge. This one here has a preacher that tells it like it is and works hard for all of his people. Eliza and him fell out because she didn't want a man. The preacher thought a woman needed a man to make the world happy. He didn't know Eliza."

We had to slowly fight our way up the mountain. On the way, Ben told me, "You know, you're gonna hafta get a front plow for this thing. If you want, you can plow driveways to make money, but most important, you can plow up your road. Make a track to my place and head home. I'll try to make it in the morning, but be ready to do the chores by yourself."

After dropping Ben off, and when I got back to my place, I took the guinea hens to the chicken house, hoping they would get along. There is no way to put them in the tree while it's this cold and with so much snow coming. The man told me they fly like a bird, so you can't keep them in a pen very long. I figured that as soon as the snow cleared a little, the birds could be indoctrinated into the mulberry tree.

The dogs, Spook and Witch, followed me up on the porch, shaking the snow off. When they looked at me mournfully, I let them in the house. The two went to the front of the fireplace and lay down on a big woven rug, with what could pass as a 'dog smile' on their faces.

I put a log on the fire and stirred the embers up. I also stoked the woodstove since I needed to cook later.

That's when I remembered evening chores. I gathered eggs and put fresh water out that I expected to be frozen by morning. I thought it was funny, since some of the bigger guineas were already in the nest boxes next to the chickens. Well, eggs are eggs.

I made sure the hog house was water tight and the hogs were huddled together for warmth. The steer and calf were huddled with the cow, but the cow was bawling, waiting to be milked.

I first had to wash the milk can I received in return for the one I sold filled with milk. When I led the cow in and put her head into the wood stanchion, she snorted and shook her head in displeasure. Oh yeah, food. I scooped up some grain and put it in front of her, along with some hay next to it. Everything was all better from her point of view.

After washing the milk bucket, bringing some warm cleansing solution in another, and washing the cow's udder, I placed the milk bucket under her and reached for her teats. I began on the far side teats. As soon as my head was buried into the side of the cow, she relaxed and gave her milk easily. I did notice the back two larger teats were easier, but didn't seem to have any more milk than the front two.

I finished about the time she finished her grain. As I released her, she looked at me, blinked her big black eyes, and turned to the door toward the lean-to barn extension where the cattle stayed during inclement weather.

With the milk in the can, I washed the other equipment up and scooped the cow shit out from where she had stood. After scooping it up, I sloshed some water in the trough behind where you milked to wash the floor down. The one thing you have around cows is a lot of cow shit. There was a storage pile about twenty feet from the barn that was all cow shit. I suppose this was supposed to be used on the garden or farm land in the spring.

The animals were taken care of, so I went inside and made a cup of coffee. While sitting at the table, I realized I needed more wood for the fireplace, as it was going to get cold. I would also need stove wood. Fifteen minutes later, after doing some on-demand splitting, a new log was catching in the fireplace and the stove was warming.

Tonight's dinner was a pork chop with some fried potatoes. I found Eliza's stash of canned beans and opened a jar. As I ate, I realized that I needed to make the outside water faucets freeze proof, so I put my heavy clothes back on and headed out. The dogs went with me as I drained the camper before turning off the main valve that fed the outbuildings. I opened all of the faucets and tried to think of anything I didn't know about.

The dogs and I went back to the cabin where I toweled them off before they lay in front of the fire again. I put another log on and sat, wondering about the ghost. I hoped she was snug with a warm fire in one of her caves.

By the time ten o'clock came, I was ready for bed. After brushing my teeth, I slid into bed and was soon asleep without the benefit of the TV. Hopefully, that would keep the ghost in her cave.

Spook and Witch had their muzzles in my face. They had their heads lying on the edge of the bed, looking at me. It was enough to make me laugh out loud. My laughter made the two dogs bark, sharing my levity.

I took them to the door and opened it. The picture in front of me was beautiful. The ground was covered with at least an eight inch thick blanket of pure white snow. The dogs raced out into the snow where one squatted and the other one lifted his leg to relieve themselves. It was funny as the two romped around, playing in the snow, diving under the snow to come up, making snow spew high into the air. The two changed in attitude as the male had his face buried into the female's back parts. Their courting didn't take long, as they were almost instantly connected in their mating ritual. I let them do their thing and went back inside to make coffee.

Someone knocked on the door. I opened it to Ben, who stamped his feet at the door and came in. "Your dogs are breedin' out there. It's the wrong time of year for that. I want one when they whelp. Eliza's dogs are great. A lot of people in town want one too. You know they are half wolf, don't you? Seems a wolf bitch was here for a while and one of the family's dogs bred with her. The latest pups, yours, are from one of the mixed breed females who bred with a huge male wolf, and your pups are part of that. Eliza found them in a cave and raised them."

I told Ben to sit down and have some coffee while I dressed. After he was warmed up, we did the chores, and I fed him breakfast once again. When I was finished washing the dishes, Ben asked, "Could you bring your saws down and cut that dead tree up that's tryin' to fall? It will make good wood for the rest of the winter. I'll share with you if you need some."

"Let me get the saws, oil, and gas. You'll have to wait a little to do what you want, though. Mervin the satellite guy is coming around eight. When he gets done we'll go cut up that tree. I have to warn you I'm not experienced with chain saws, but I'll try."

Mervin showed just after eight and spent about ten minutes testing the satellite dish, and then thirty putting a new access card in a new cable box under the TV, and programming it. It only took about an hour to run new cables from the dish to the bedroom and a receiver with DVR in there. I paid the guy and he was gone.

I had Ben's big tree down and cut into manageable pieces by two. It had been hard work and I was sweating, in spite of the under twenty degree temperature. Ben fed me a delicious goat meat sandwich, made with homemade bread and some homemade meat sauce. The man wasn't going to go hungry, that's for sure.

Ben said, "You do the evening chores. I'm a mite stove up tonight and could use a hot bath. I think you made me use every muscle in my body today."

It didn't take me long to do the evening chores. The cow was happy to have her grain as I relieved her of her milk. The can was full, so I needed to wash out another for tomorrow morning. The chickens couldn't go anywhere today, so they ate and laid eggs all day. One hen began hatching babies from the clutch of eggs she was sitting on. Wonder what I should do for them?

The dogs wanted to come inside again, but had lingered around the back of the chicken house. They had been up near the bluff, nearer to the chicken house than the big machinery cave. I was hoping to see the ghost, as that had to be what they were trying to get to come out. I made supper with the hamburger I had. I was able to make a small meatloaf that tasted great, with some instant mashed potatoes and more of Eliza's canned beans.

I was about to put the leftovers into the outdoor refrigerator when I had a thought. I warmed the meatloaf, the mashed potatoes, and the green beans up, put them on a big metal camp plate, and set all of it, along with a fork, on a hot plate turned on 'warm', out on the porch. If the ghost didn't appreciate the hot meal, no harm was done. I could feed what was left to the pigs.

In the morning, the plate and fork were back on the porch, empty and clean. It was good to know the food had been eaten and probably appreciated.

Figuring Ben was probably still stove up, I made short work of the chores. I rummaged around in the barn this morning and found some more milk cans. There were six more of the small ones, and a couple of ten gallon normal sized cans. I cleaned up one big and two of the little cans so I would have fresh cans to use as necessary.

The day began warming up, so the snow began melting. I spent the day emptying the trailer. The machine shed, or garage, easily held all the tools. I was looking forward to warmer weather so I could do some field work and work on the machinery. By nightfall, there were some patches that were bare, but there was still a lot of snow everywhere you looked. Once again, I made more food than I could eat so I could leave some out on the porch. This time I put some buttered bread with it.

The days and nights pretty much ran together. I was meeting a lot of people at the market, and with Ben's help, became known as a regular guy. I traded fair and expected something fair in return.

I now had turkeys, ducks, two geese, and lots of guinea hens. The guineas roosted in the mulberry tree just at the top of the hill. When Ben walked up the road, they would start a clamor that anyone could hear. The guineas sometimes flew back into the chicken yard during the day to feed on the grain. They liked the nest boxes, and I soon had a couple of dozen more guineas. My big brown Rhode Island Reds were setting as well, so my chicken population was growing. The turkeys, ducks, and geese were too young to set now, but would probably bring some more baby fowl toward fall.

When the weather permitted, I hiked all over the property. I made it back to the other side of the mountain and began charting it so I would have an accurate layout of the two hundred forty acres there. I was looking for a way to build a road to that side so I could work the small fields there. I found several caves, but none showed signs of use. Some of the heavy brush up near the rocks and bluffs may have been hiding more caves, but I didn't take the time to investigate. I figured I would see paths where people had traveled, and not just a worn area or game trails.

For the most part, I lived frugally. I didn't do much, other than go to the market, feed store, and the grocery store. I began reading the books on the shelves, especially several books on vineyards and wine making. That became my favorite thing in the evenings. I would sit in a big rocking chair in front of a fire, with the dogs at my feet, reading. My days were normal farm days. I did chores, cut wood, split dry wood for the fireplace, cut and split dry stove wood, and did minor repairs every time I would see something that needed fixing.

The ghost didn't come every night, but showed up regularly when the weather wasn't too cold. I had to buy more soap, shampoo, and also some candles when a stub was left on the porch table. I even made a trip through the Goodwill store and bought a bunch of clothes, visualizing the ghost I had seen outside the camper and my window. The store had a deal on old blankets, so I bought a dozen to warm the ghosts from the really cold temperatures. After I had washed and dried the blankets, I put them on the porch. You can bet they were gone the next morning.

I had brought all of the guns into the house. I made a really nice gun rack that fit perfectly on the side of one of the bookshelf areas. I was able to put all of the shotguns, rifles, pistols, and ammunition in the area. I put my personal Beretta M9 in with them. Over it, I put up a panel that didn't look like a door to secure the weapons. I didn't want to put a lock on the house door, but I needed to secure the guns in case someone did try to burglarize the house.

There were a lot of rabbit tracks all over the mountain, so I thought I might take a shotgun and see about a rabbit dinner. I was surprised to see some wild turkeys, several deer, and lots of rabbits. This area wasn't far from an area called Bear Hollow. I'm sure there were plenty of bears in the area, what with all of the food and caves. I'd have to be careful around the caves in the spring. If hunters were coming out this way, they were not thinning the game out much. There was almost too much game for the area. If it continued, the fish and game people would have to organize a hunt. Otherwise, with the lack of predators, the overabundance of game would diminish the food supply and all of the animals would die. I decided that I would have rabbit at least once a week during the winter. When I put the cooked rabbit out, it was taken, so I began bringing in two rabbits each time I went hunting.

Over the spring, I made sure to plow up the weeds and cut down any volunteer trees around the apple orchard. The vineyard was going to require some learning, since you had to cut the old vines back before the thaw came, so the new vine shoots would grow. The wire that was used as the trellis support for the vines to grow on was getting old in places, and I could tell that the method of replacing the wire was to put more up and let the old rust away. There was a little of the wire in the machine shed.

The vineyard also required some long posts where the old ones were rotting through. I wondered why creosote wasn't used to keep the posts from rotting, but maybe that affected the grapes. That was something else to research. By the time the weather was breaking, I had the three small fields in the condition I wanted. I learned that to have enough hay for the winter, I had to use the big field for hay, and the other two for corn and oats.

I found out that the chicken shit was to be mixed into the soil around each of the grapevine bases. That was a tough job, as you had to dig up the ground, put some chicken manure on the top, then mix it into the soil. You don't want to put too much, or it will burn the plant. After 20 years in the Army, I was used to chicken shit, so this wasn't that big an adjustment.

There was an antique iron-wheeled manure spreader in the cave. It was in good shape and only required greasing. I think everything on the farm required a lot of grease. The way the manure spreader worked was that the big rear wheels made the other mechanisms work. When you engaged the gears, the manure was raked toward the back, where some steel forks and paddles threw the manure out in about a twenty foot arc. The fields I was going to use for corn and the big garden were where I wanted to put most of the manure. I did spread a very light coat of what I had left on the hay field. That was a nasty job, and an even nastier one to clean the spreader. It took several hours to get it perfectly clean, spread old used oil on the working parts, and add more grease to take care of it until the next time I needed it. If I had the time this summer, I might paint the outer area and wheels. That would at least make it look good.

Many of my days were spent at the Farm Bureau in Stanton, learning how to be prepared for the growing season. I had learned that I should use my old horse-drawn converted spring tooth harrow to rake across the combination alfalfa, timothy, and clover field before broadcasting more seed. According to the Farm Bureau agent, I should have done this during the early previous fall, but since I didn't know whether or not Eliza did, seeding this spring was going to have to work.

I planted a full acre of garden up near the house. I made sure the rows were the same size as corn rows so I could use the tractor mounted cultivator to plow weeds. I even planted a couple rows of three types of potatoes the night of the full moon nearest St. Patrick's Day. I know the time to plant was silly, but it was what my dad believed in.

I planted a bunch of rhubarb and asparagus on the edge of the garden. Neither one would be good this year, but I would have all I wanted next year.

Up in the mountains, the summer months were all about preparation for winter. You raised your hay and grain for the rest of the year. I was getting so many chickens that I actually caught and caged most of the leghorn chickens and traded them at the market. Because I didn't realize how fast ducks and geese multiplied, I traded some of those, too. When my female dog whelped six pups, Ben told the rest of the county, so I had people wanting to trade me all kinds of good things for a pup. After Ben got his pup, the rest were gone the first Saturday I took them to market.

As fall came, I was inundated with grapes, apples, and pears. Actually, the pears were first, then the grapes, and the apples last. If you have six rows of grape vines about two hundred feet long, you are going to have a lot of grapes. I had a lot of grapes.

During the summer, I found the nearby cave that Eliza said Bud had his wine press in. I cleaned it out and made sure it was going to work for the fall. I also found over twenty full barrels and one partial barrel of wine. The barrels were in threes and represented three different vintage years. I was surprised that the wine had not turned to vinegar and was still pretty tasty. Almost like a dark red Merlot. I had to spend some time at the library, looking at information on how to make wine, so I would be ready when the time came.

I applied for a permit to make and sell a limited amount of wine in other non-restricted counties. I think I was probably the first person in the entire region that actually was going to have some legal homemade alcoholic beverage. I ordered two dozen more barrels and a hundred one gallon jugs and began filling the jugs to get rid of the wine I already had. Some of it was delicious and some just so-so. I kept one barrel from each year vintage and kept a gallon of each of the vintages on a shelf above the barrel. I also saved several gallons of what I considered the best tasting wine and was able to sell about five hundred gallons of wine at the market in Wolfe County to the south at the Pine Ridge market.

To make the new and old barrels work, I had to trade for gallons of beeswax to coat the barrels so they wouldn't leak. I was able to fashion some good oak corks to put in the barrels, and I was ready. At least, I thought I was ready. Pressing the juice out of grapes isn't as much fun as having a bunch of cute women stomping on the grapes. It was hard work. The other thing I didn't consider is how much trash I was going to have from the stems, seeds, and skins. I was able to separate about thirty pounds of seeds that I thought would be good for more vines or to trade at the market. I had read that most commercial vineyards propagated their vines by grafting, but that, unlike apples, grapevines did breed or grow true from seed. I also read that the Italians distilled their own brand of moonshine, called grappa, from the skins, but unlike so many of my neighbors, I didn't have a still, and didn't figure I could compete with the local taste for corn liquor. Still...

I filled twenty barrels and sold bushels of grapes at the market. My Saturdays were becoming an almost all day affair between the two counties.

I found I had far too many apples. I sold apples almost by the pickup truck load. Even the local Wal-Mart manager up in Sterling about twenty minutes away bought a truck load, along with ten bushels of pears. I had to begin charging a little more and trading better, since I had to keep buying bushel baskets. If someone brought me a basket, I filled it at a lower price. One of my customers told me he'd buy my culls and discards at 25% of the price of the good apples. When I asked him what for, he laid his right finger by his nose and winked at me. Later on, it dawned on me that he was planning to make apple jack or a similar hard drink from the apples.