What to do

By Christine Tailer
HCP columnist

My work day was done. It was time to try and clean the red paint from my hands. It looked as though I had managed to get more paint on my hands and clothes than on the tractor parts, but that was fine. I was proud, and there are only a few more small parts to refinish before I tackle the O4's large fenders. While I’d been painting, Greg had been wire brushing a few other pieces and their applicable nuts and bolts. I hoped I had saved all the fasteners.

Once all the parts were red and shining in the end of day sun, we brought them inside from the ladders from which they'd swung for painting, and hung them to dry from the conduit pipes in Greg's shop. All day I’d been thinking how wonderful it will be to have two O4 Orchard tractors at the machinery show next year. Maybe I’ll be able to convince Greg to drive one in the parade while I drive the other, but Greg is not a parading kind of fellow. I’ll have a lot of convincing to do. We put our tools away and climbed the hill to the cabin. My front porch rocking chair was waiting for me.

The wind chimes rang gently. The leaves on the trees moved ever so slightly. I settled into my chair and looked out across the valley, and began to slowly rock, but then abruptly stopped. I was shocked! How could this be?

All across the valley the trees were turning yellow. The leaves on the tall walnut, whose branches reach over the gravel drive, were more yellow than green. My amazement held me still. The breeze picked up and several pointed walnut leaves let go of their branches and fluttered to the ground. I resumed rocking, and began to think. The season was changing, and I knew what this meant. There were so many chores to get done before winter took hold of the valley. 

A list began to form in my mind.

1) I must put the garden to bed. This task requires pulling up dried vines, spreading straw across the raised beds, and weeding the greenhouse. Once again weeds have proliferated. They must all be carted to the compost pile.

2) I need to clean out the chicken coop, fill the backhoe's frontend loader with their droppings and old straw, take it all down to the compost pile, and return up the hill to spread new straw in the coop.

3) I need to clean out the pigeon coop, fill the backhoe's frontend loader with their old straw, take it down to the compost pile, and spread new straw inside their pigeon palace.

4) I must then turn the compost pile with the backhoe bucket, outriggers firmly planted, by pulling the back side of the pile up over the top and in this way cover the new additions so they can properly decompose over the winter.

5) Then, as a team, Greg and I need to bring in firewood. We have about a week's worth left over from last winter, but the cold weather will last far longer than one week. This task should be done sooner rather than later. We don't want to get caught in the cold. We've got our eyes on several dead trees that have fallen into the fields from the edge of the woods. These need to be cleared away anyway. Once cut and split they will add a month or two of warmth to our wood pile. 

6) Then, I always do a fall cleaning inside the cabin. Pollen has gathered on our open window screens and is so thick it almost obscures the view. We'll need to take out the screens and give them a good washing by the frost-free spigot, and then, even though I do a random light dusting of those surfaces where I see dust, I should still do an official dusting of the entire cabin. This means that I’ll need to pull out the couch and clean away our four-footed friend's hidden wisps of hair. She hardly sheds at all, but it is still a good idea to get behind the couch twice a year.

I rocked slowly and contemplated all that should be done. I looked out across the valley. The wind chimes sang. The yellow leaves fell, and it occurred to me that tomorrow would be a perfect day to work on one of these fall chores, but which?

It was a difficult decision, but I suddenly knew exactly what to do. Yes, I would put the five beautiful red pieces that I just refinished onto the O4 and prime and paint the pieces Greg had just wire brushed. Then I’d look carefully through my O4 parts shelf to see what other small rusty pieces might remain. I was reminded of that Johnny Cash song, "One Piece at a Time," though unlike Johnny Cash, I had procured all of my parts properly. Wire brushing, priming, and painting, that is what I'd do tomorrow. My fall chores could wait. Johnny’s song kept perfect beat to my contented rocking.

Christine Tailer is an attorney and former city dweller who moved several years ago, with her husband, Greg, to an off-grid farm in Ohio south-central Ohio. Visit them on the web at straightcreekvalleyfarm.com.