leveling my field

I remember a job back when I was an apprentice

The husband was in his early 70’s. The wife a considerable amount younger. I guess maybe 20 years. Since this happened 50 years ago I might be confused here, but I remember the wife saying that he was a 70 year old bat.

The house was old, but solid. They were farmers and had a fair spread for the time. She wanted a new kitchen (she needed one) and he wanted to level his fields so they would irrigate easier.

The underlying contention was that she was younger and would get more out of it, and he might die any time and the money would be wasted. I doubt those words were audible, but they seemed to have been intended.

I have no idea of how they settled that. I was only in the house for a few hours that one day. But, this week, as I was working on making raised beds for my garden I got to thinking about the old farmer. When I met him he was about the age I am now. He worked hard and spent a fair amount of money doing something that might or might not make any sense. But it was his decision.

I have had a run of stomach aches of late that have been a bit worry-some. What if the reaper comes along about the time I have the garden beds all finished, and I don’t get to “enjoy” them.


So I struggle along to “improve” things. Not only do I try to maintain, but I try to improve, make it better. The idea in the garden is that when I am finished it should take less time and less effort to make it all work well and produce good food for us. Of course there is no guarantee! I won’t always have the energy to maintain my “spread.”

Then I look at my family. About the time I think it is all going right, the everything is going forward and all will be well, it changes and it is obvious that it is not going forward easily. 

Alzheimer’s is the big one in this category. Living with the disease has changed my view of the future. Somehow just to survive is the issue. To take care of Miriam as long as I can and then for me to go.

But, I will keep working on my beds. As my aunt used to say about something else: “I can’t help it, that is how I am.”