The Journal: Cracked Earth (3 page)

I do need to make a run to the artesian well
soon; I’m almost out of drinking water.

* * *

I dug up some horseradish roots a few days
ago. The plants did great this summer and the leaves were four feet
tall. Earlier in the summer I dried some of the leaves for
seasoning on the other hand actually making horseradish from real
roots is a new thing for me, so I asked the online prepper groups
how to do it. Someone gave me a warning to wear my gasmask. I
thought that was silly, but at least that warning got me to get out
the N95 mask and the face-sealed goggles and surgical gloves. I set
up a table on the deck with the food processor outside and set
about making the horseradish.

I scrubbed the roots with no problem. I
peeled the roots with no problem. It was a pleasant scent. I love
horseradish. I took all outside and shredded the roots. When I took
the lid off of the processor, my eyes burned through the goggles
and my nose immediately started to run. OMG... the fumes! YIKES! I
dumped the pulp into a glass bowl without going blind and reset it
with a chopping blade instead of the shredder and pulsed it several
times. Finally it got to the consistency that I wanted. I held the
bowl away when I lifted the lid and even still, my eyes watered
again. I dumped the chopped root back into the bowl and put a cover
on it, then I lifted the goggles and wiped my eyes after I rinsed
my gloved hands. I added half cup of my own Apple Cider Vinegar,
and stirred it all in. I covered the bowl with a plastic cap and
then washed everything. I wasn’t about to bring that stuff inside,
so I took the prepared jars out to the deck and filled them with my
fresh horseradish.

Next time I just might use the gas mask. It
was quite an experience, and the end product is incredible. It was
a good thing the weather was nice. It made me want an outdoor
summer kitchen. Maybe next year.

* * *

Now that the resort has had closed, it was
past time I attacked my fall prep list. There was
so
much to
do, and I still lament I must do it on my own. Looking over the
list, I was pleased that I had tackled many of the really important
items early.

The winter wood was delivered in May. I was
thankful that Keith let me pay for it when work picked up. This is
the first year I managed to stock a full eighteen months’ worth of
wood. Every now and then I get the feeling that we’ll have a bad
winter and I’m going to need all of that wood. It hasn’t happened
yet, still, one of these years it will.

I use propane for cooking, even though the
cook-stove let me do everything I need. Even though I haven’t used
much of it, I still called for a winter top off for November first.
One more thing off the winter prep list.

I hadn’t rototilled the garden yet, but I had
shut it down and let the chickens run free. This was a really great
garden season. I was able to can more tomatoes than ever before,
plus greens and squash and beans.

Back in late August sometime I ran into Mike
T., a local farmer, and arranged to barter my tomatoes for some of
his corn. Unfortunately, before I could collect, his corn was gone
and I had to buy some. Oh well, at least I have two cases, and
that’s better than nothing.

I still need to shut the outside water off.
An onerous task since I don’t like going down in that eight foot
deep pit where the valve is located.

* * *

I love productive days. The weather is
holding, sixty-eight degrees today and mostly sunny, a good day to
be outside. I dug up a pound of Jerusalem artichokes. Too bad they
don’t keep well; I’ll keep adding them to meals before they spoil.
I relocated some of them to another part of the garden. I hope that
they take.

I cleaned out the onion beds, planted some
garlic, and dug up as many of those darn creeping weeds with the
geranium-like leaves as I could. The wheelbarrow was completely
full. I knew they’d be back, at least these wouldn’t be tilled
in.

I took down the fence charger and pulled up
the cord, storing it all in the barn for next year. One more task
to add to the winter prep-fall chores list since it was a new
addition this summer. I left the wire at the top on the fence in
place. I will have to see how it fares this winter.

I washed sheets and hung them out on the
line, then did all my laundry.

The day was still young, so I decided I’d go
for a walk.

* * *

I ended up on the public side of Eagle Beach.
It was wonderfully quiet this time of year since all of the
tourists were gone and the kids were in school. I had the whole
beach to myself. I walked for a bit and then found a large piece of
battered driftwood to sit on. Where this piece of wood came from is
anybody’s guess. Lake Superior is a huge lake and it might have
come from Canada or the other side of the bay. In spite of it being
cool, I took off my shoes and dug my toes into the damp, rocky
sand. I sat there for a while watching the waves gently lap at the
shore, trying to think of what I wanted for this coming winter. Try
as I might, my mind kept drifting.

I remembered a night so long ago, when my ex
Sam and I were new to the area and still working on our house in
the woods, long before we split up. It was a warm August night, the
moon was new, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Sitting on the
beach at midnight and looking at all the stars was mesmerizing.
There is no light pollution up here and the sky was brilliant. From
the bay, the view out to Lake Superior is more than 180 degrees.
That night there were so many stars I could actually see a subtle
curvature of the universe. I know it was an optical illusion, but
the sky seemed to bend around us. I will never forget that
night.

I dug my toes a bit deeper and felt something
sharp. Digging with my fingers, I found a nice piece of hematite to
add to my rock collection and stuck it in my pocket. After
disturbing the sand, I was visited by a couple of squawky white and
gray seagulls, curious if I dug up anything for them. They can be
annoying little creatures and it’s part of life on the lake. Almost
immediately, there was another shriek, then another. They have some
kind of code in that caw, I swear. Soon there were a dozen of those
pesky birds swooping down, their raucous cry piercing the quiet,
parading up and down the shore or fighting with the next one for a
piece of twig. It was a good thing I didn’t have any food or else
they’d never leave.

My attention kept coming back to the first
house on the other side of the break wall, which separates the
public beach from the residential section with the marina. That
first house is where John Tiggs and his co-workers live. I’d been
seeing John as a massage client for a year now and I’ve grown
dangerously fond of him. During our many hour-long sessions
together, he has told me much about himself, past relationships and
how he never wants to be emotionally tied to anyone ever again. I
wish I could say the same.

I pulled my focus away from that house to
watch an ore freighter chug its way across my view a few miles out.
Last year during a particularly violent storm, a thousand-foot
freighter took refuge in the much calmer waters of our bay. It was
startling for me to see this huge ship anchored calmly. I had
forgotten how vast our cove is, at least five miles across making
the ship look like a small toy boat in a big bathtub. It stayed for
two days and then left quietly during the night when the storm had
passed.

* * *

The television news tonight covered a riot in
Miami. It seems that an entire district didn’t get their food
stamps due to a computer glitch, so they stormed the local social
services office. When they couldn’t get in (some smart worker
quickly locked the doors) the crowd went on a rampage, breaking
into stores, looting and setting fires. Due to being short on
manpower because of budget cutbacks, there was little that the
police could do, so they barricaded the area off to keep more
people from entering and let the crowd burn itself out. Apparently
one of the caseworkers took charge of the rest of the employees and
got them upstairs where they jammed the elevator doors open so it
couldn’t be called down.

The guy put an “out of order” sign on the
elevator doors on the main floor and duct taped over the buttons so
it wouldn’t show where the elevator was. He used the janitor’s keys
and locked the stairwell doors behind him. The final count was
seven dead, and one hundred twenty-six injured. One of the dead was
a caseworker who wouldn’t retreat. When he tried to get to his car,
the crowd beat him to death.

If people will do this because their food
stamps were late, what will they do if something really bad
happens?

* * *

JOURNAL ENTRY: October 23

Today was my son Eric’s birthday. It’s hard
to believe that he’s older now than I was when he was born. I
called him even though it was hard to wish him a happy birthday
when he and Beth are splitting up. Damn, I really like my
daughter-in-law. Eric is coping. That’s the best thing the military
did for him, gave him coping skills. He’s a good man and a good
father. Perhaps that’s what
I
did for him: teach him how to
be a good parent. I’m so proud of him and it makes me weep
sometimes.

I’m proud of Jason too, in different ways.
Jason has turned into an amazing father. Having an autistic child
is difficult, however, he’s done well.

* * *

I got my rototiller back from Jason and then
hired his helper, Abe, to till the garden. My grip has been bad
from all the massage work, but with a winter to recover, it would
be better by spring. With the ground broken, I’ll be able to run
the tiller myself. Jason took the gutters down from the barn that
feed the cistern, and then turned the cistern over while Abe tilled
the garden. That’s two more things off of my list.

A few days ago, I came across one of those
hard-to-pass-up deals— a clearance sale on chicken legs, what I
call a “use or lose” sale. The legs, all twenty-five of them, went
into a big pot for soup, which I canned today. Eleven pints, heavy
on the chicken, along with the two packages of boneless thighs,
making eight more pints. I couldn’t help it. When I see prices like
that, I feel the need to buy it.

The weather is now cool, low fifties, cloudy
and dreary. Saturday the temps are supposed to drop into the
thirties for the high, so it looks like winter is closing in on us.
I think I might run into town and get two more bags of chicken feed
and see if rock salt is in stock yet. It should be— I’ve seen
Christmas displays already! Geesh, what happened to the day
after
Thanksgiving?

* * *

JOURNAL ENTRY: October 24

I keep looking at my list, and looking at it
again. Why am I hesitating to finish it? The water is a big issue.
So many times after I’ve turned it off, I find something that I
need to hose down, or wash outside, which means turning it back on.
I’m also reluctant to empty and winterize the hot tub. This is the
perfect time to use it, as the nights are getting chilly. I do love
a good long soak. I give therapy all summer long and the hot tub is
my
therapy.

* * *

When I arrived for my morning massage with
John, all the guys there seemed antsy and irritable, which is
unlike them. They’re usually pleasant and jovial. I wonder if
they’re having more problems from the locals.

These guys might be miners at a very
controversial local mine, but they are also a bunch of the nicest
guys I’ve met, and they’re trying very hard to fit in with the
community. Doing a massage off to the side in the large dining area
lets me be the proverbial fly-on-the-wall. These guys are from all
over, literally. Lance is from Ireland and I can listen to him talk
for hours. Sven is from Sweden, John from North Carolina, and none
of them are from Michigan. I think that was intentional.

Most of them have degrees in something
related, like management or geology, or specialize in explosives,
and they are all intelligent and polite. Their language is rather
rough; it comes with the territory. Actually, that they talked like
that in front of me made me feel more accepted.

I don’t know why the guys are acting
peculiar. John said some of them get “feelings” about earth
movement, that there had been some, and that it was making them all
extra cautious.

* * *

JOURNAL ENTRY: October 25

The weather report isn’t good. We are
expecting cold rain and thunderstorms for the rest of the week, so
I drained the hot tub and dumped the two gallons of anti-freeze in,
wrapped up the screen netting, and took down the umbrella. Another
major project done, and I’m sure going to miss it. With it sitting
outside on the deck, I can’t afford the extra money every month to
heat it during the winter.

* * *

I was on a roll. I’d been waiting for gas
prices to drop so I could refill the drum. This morning it dropped,
not much, down to $3.75. Outrageous, but I’m way too nervous about
not having full drums. I’ve always had it refilled by now, however,
it has been too expensive. I needed eighty gallons to refill
everything. That came to a lot of money; on the other hand, I did
feel better having the drums topped off even at that price. It took
several hours of running back and forth this morning, twenty
gallons at a time, trying to time the shift change at Fram’s so it
wasn’t so obvious what I was doing, and now I felt so much more
confident with full drums.

If a snowstorm takes down the power I need
gas for the generator. Depending on how long it stays down, I could
need a
lot
of gas. The two drums and four cans gave me 130
gallons to get through an emergency.