The Garden of Eden
(well how about Edna)
I had a '49 Ford pick em up that I picked-up for
a hundred bucks in a blackberry patch in an apple orchard moving
in a man from Ohio to north of Wenatchee (WA) who bought that place to raise his kids right and away from the harm of so-ci-e-ty. There
were three of them side by side, and me going home
just took out my big long log chain and yanked one out.
The leather interior was intact. 'course it didn't run but during the next year I had its old flat head six running and
front end un-bent, almost running straight down the road.
Well spring was coming and Mom's garden needed the magical
stuff that makes seeds sprout in smelly stature smiling to the sun and asking for rain. Pa (he hates it when I call him Pa) was still getting his old beater to work that damn Dedog
spent more time on car ramps than asphalt. So I roll in and obliges, heck I knew Edna and her egg 'ranch' outside of Kent
but hadn't been there for awhile. Using my old truck and its little bed, I'd have to make a couple of trips to satisfy
the growing pains of the season.
So I goes there (country talk for arriving at the establishment),long rows of barricades of clucking, egg laying birds and the smell that
makes breathing a hazard,
"Whoooooooeeeeee that's some nasty chicken manure, Edna"
"Back up to that big pile over there, its the older stuff, not as ripe, but good potent stuff" OK.
Now I won't go into details about loading that stuff except to say its worse than paint, Gets Every Where even when you
are so careful" Well it was everywhere. Dripping gooey stuff, Mom better happy, I thought.
I had me a tarp, a really old one, Pa didn't give em up easily and was its last use, covered that stuff up heaped in the middle a foot or so over the sides. And took off, thanking Edna and saying seeing her if not this afternoon, tomorrow. And headed down some back roads knowing the truck was incomplete and loaded, and minding my own business, didn't want to run into any trouble. There was only one red light on the route, a place to make a left turn and go. So naturally it was red and wouldn't you know it, a car with a light bar was opposite me. Well I waited for him to proceed but he didn't.
So I makes the left in front of him, and he gets a good look at me, (at that time my shoulder -length hair) and this old truck with something tarped in the back and follows me.
Heck I been pulled over enough times to know that this was something I could bet on, and I starts to pull over to the shoulder. Naturally the State trooper played his role and hit the lights and did the sireeeen burp as I did. Ahh geez, pulling out the necessary ID and reg's
when he told me to put my hands out the window.
What! I'm getting criminal treatment for this (the only other time was in a place called Farmer's Branch)!
So I oblige (good word) and he gets me out and takes the paper work back after doing a once over in the cab of this poor old truck. He calls in, gets out and starts writing.
"What did I do, officer?"
"Violated code blah blah blah, no windshield wiper on passenger side of the windshield".
It was sitting on the seat on the passenger side. It never did work and would just flop and come off.
I lied and told him it just fell off and I was gonna fix it when I get home. You know if my Mother was there swearing on a stack of Bibles it wouldnt helped. Hell just made him write harder.
"Horn don't work" - Yes Sir
"One high beam out" - Yes Sir
"No gross weight stickers" Yes Sir
"What you hauling" - Chicken Shit, Sir
"What?" - "For my mom's garden, great fertilizer, Sir"
Well I guess he had to find out for himself (you could smell it) so he stuck his really long flashlight (they all got those, the one he pulled out for this impromptu vehicle inspection) into that old beaten thin tarp which naturally gave way so that his shiny black flashlight was now knee-deep in poo, chicken poo, green smelly chicken poo and the only thing besides chuckling was to say I could un-tarp it for him.
He wasn't amused, had me sign the ticket and took my oily rag which I offered to clean that lite. And off I go.
Getting home.
"Ma (she don't like it when I call her Ma), I got your shit and ain't going back."
"I got me this ticket and I got to unload this stuff and fix it before I go out on the next trip" Pa was laughing telling my story.
So the garden that year only got half of the necessary essential elements but it was a good growing garden, producing bountiful sustenance to nourish and enjoy, I got the pickup truck fixed and so did Pa.
Later coming back in the summer and seeing the stuff had grown wonderfully,
"Ma glad I hauled that stuff for you, look at this beautiful crop, without it you would have hardly any"
"Son, it wasn't the manure that did it, it was the moon"
"Moon?"
"Plant by the moon and it will amaze you"
Ma?
"Yes"
You mean you don't need that crap?
"Well, its already very rich "
Ma?
"Yes"
Why do you make Pa go get it then?
She just smiled. |
