The Journal: Ash Fall (4 page)

“I don’t think you ever met Simon, our
liaison to the Green Way home office. He noticed the change in me,
and when he found out I had spent those four harsh months here in
Moose Creek, and with you, he immediately sent me home to my
daughter’s for a two week rotation. I don’t know if he thought that
it would help get you ‘out of my system’ or what, but it didn’t. If
anything, going back to my daughter’s, seeing my mom and sister, it
just made me miss you all the more.” He started to reach across the
table; instead, he stopped and picked up his glass again. I could
understand needing to keep the hands busy; I really wanted to touch
him too.

“I made up my mind then that I would work the
mine, for as much money as I could make, only if I can have you,
too…” he hesitated. “That is, if you’ll have me back, Allex. If you
don’t want me back, I’ll ask for a transfer someplace far from
here.” His eyes told of the sadness he felt at the prospect of
leaving here.

“Don’t want you?” I snorted. “Of course I
want you, John. I’ve been miserable without you. I don’t want you
here out of some kind of obligation though.” When he started to
interrupt, I held up my hand to stop him. “Do you want to be here?
Do you want to be with me? And will you promise to not leave like
that again?”

He stood up from the table, and came around
to my side, taking my hand and pulling me into his arms again.
“Yes, Allex, I want to be here, with you. I… I...”

“Spit it out, John, I can take it.”

“I must confess that this scares me
spit-less. I love you, Allex. I won’t ever leave you again.”

Love me? He’d never told me that before. I
kissed him lightly, and then sighed when he pulled me even
closer.

“What shift are you on? When do you have to
report back in?”

“I’m on rotation.” He grinned. “The two weeks
to see my daughter was out of sequence. So when I got back I worked
only two more weeks to be back in sync with my crew. This is our
normal time off, so they don’t expect me back for another ten
days.”

Ten days. My heart was tripping over itself
with the prospect.

* * *

Inside the house, John looked around.

“Something’s different,” he observed. “You
painted. It’s blue now instead of green. It looks good.”

“A few weeks ago I decided I needed to make
some changes.” I took a deep breath. He should hear the truth.
“Everything reminded me of you. I had to do something so I could
move on. I repainted the TV room too, and the bedroom. I rearranged
the furniture, replaced some light fixtures. A few changes helped
pull me out of the deep hole I was in.”

His face fell when he grasped what I was
saying. “I’m so sorry to have put you through all of this, Allex. I
really am, and I hope in time you will forgive me.”

I hope so, too, I thought silently.

May 5

Tufts meowing in the hallway roused me from a
deep and restful sleep. I stretched and felt the body next to mine.
I rolled to my side and smiled into John’s sleepy blue eyes.

“Good morning” he said and kissed me lightly.
I snuggled closer to him, my head on his shoulder, ignoring Tufts’
protests. Yes, it was a very good morning.

* * *

Over coffee and toast with jam, we discussed
the day. Some things just would not wait. I needed to finish the
fencing, and two of us working on it would make it go much quicker.
What would take me all day should only take the two of us a few
hours. Then I needed to rake out the garden and add the last of the
commercial lime. Every winter, I’ve added all the wood ash I
gathered from the wood stove to help balance the acidic soil in the
garden. I found myself wondering if it would be enough when the
lime ran out.

We finished the new fences, and while John
made the gate, I inspected the perimeter fencing for winter damage
and made a few repairs. When I did the original fence, I started
with two foot chicken wire at the bottom because it was easier to
handle by myself. I buried six inches into the ground to keep any
animals from digging under, and then attached the remaining
eighteen inches to the posts I had set every eight feet. Once done,
I ran four foot fencing above the shorter fence, overlapping it
only slightly, and attaching the two together with small zip ties.
I loved zip ties, however, they did break and needed to be replaced
occasionally. I had a good stock of them, now I was thinking I
should use wire, if I could find any. There were things I had not
thought of to stock up on.

We had an easy lunch of egg salad sandwiches
and tomato soup while planning out the rest of the afternoon.

“What’s next on the agenda?” John asked. It
was good to see him enthused about this kind of work.

“Well, the wire around the top of the fence
needs to be tightened up, and then the electric fence charger
reinstalled so we can attach those wires. I really don’t want to do
any work in the garden until it’s protected from the animals.”

“Makes sense,” he replied, eying all the foot
high tomato plants sitting in front of the windows.

“Before planting the garden, I want to rake
out and plant one of the new yards for the chickens. I’m thinking
of planting vetch or clover. I’ve got seed for both. I was going to
do a ‘green manure’ planting for the garden and never got around to
it.”

“Why not seed some of both?” he questioned.
“That way they would get a little variety.”

I smiled. It was good to have him back.

“Good idea, John, we can do that.”

* * *

John pulled the tiller back into the garden
and walked it into the first chicken yard. I was really happy he
volunteered to do that, since the ground in that area hadn’t been
broken in years. I dug around in the metal trash can where I kept
all my seeds, found what I needed, and mixed a cup full of the
ground cover. It might take a month or six weeks for it to grow
enough, and the sooner it was planted the sooner the chickens would
have something healthy and natural to eat and I could cut back on
the remaining feed. I was worried about how I was going to keep
them fed this next winter. It was definitely worthy of a family
discussion at some point.

“How are the chickens laying, Allex?” John
asked as he put the tiller away.

“The eight hens are giving five to six eggs
each day, sometimes only four, though. Someone is slowing down.” I
frowned.

The oldest of “the girls”, two black
Astralorpes, were now five years old. Their seven off spring were
three years old. It was time to renew the flock. As noisy as he
could be, I was glad I kept the one rooster.

John chuckled. “What are you thinking? I can
see those wheels turning.”

“I’m thinking we need to stop eating eggs for
a week and collect enough to fill the incubator, and then hatch out
a new flock.”

“Why does it not surprise me that you have an
incubator?” He reached out and gave me a hug. “Where is it? I’ll
get it down for you.”

I put the lightweight incubator box and the
egg-turner in the house to be washed later, and went back to the
garden. John had already started the raking, which was another
thing that would be done much quicker with two of us. I hand spread
the seed around the inner yard, and grabbed a second rake. We
worked silently side by side for another hour. As delighted as I
was that so much was done today, it was time to stop and clean up.
My lower back was feeling the strain.

* * *

After my shower, I slipped on a casual
t-shirt dress that was cool on my legs and made me feel more
feminine. Feeling feminine was not something I had worried about
for the past several weeks.

While John showered, I washed and sterilized
the incubator, and set it aside. It would be started with the first
eggs tomorrow. Jason and I experimented one year and realized we
had a better hatching rate if the incubator was started
immediately, rather than waiting until it was full. That also let
the chicks hatch out over a period of time instead of all at
once.

JOURNAL ENTRY: May 5

It’s been a long and hot day, with temperatures into
the 80’s. For dinner I mixed up a cold macaroni and tuna salad,
using rehydrated celery and red sweet peppers, canned peas, and the
first of the fresh onions from the garden I planted last fall in
the raised beds. We drank the last bottle of white wine from the
shelf, one of Nancy’s stash. I think I will use some of my paycheck
from the township to replace the wine supply. Maybe I should look
for wine making supplies instead.

* * *

May 6

“I think we should plant the garden today,” I
mentioned to John over our morning coffee. “The ground is ready. We
can do the seeds and the potatoes, but I’d rather wait another week
or two for the plants.”

He looked at me over his cup.

“That is, if you want to help.”

“Allex, of course I want to help. I will do
whatever you want me to do, to be part of here and part of your
life again.” He said it with such sincerity that I believed him.
“What are we planting?”

“I still have the layout we worked on
earlier,” I said softly. “It’s a good plan and utilizes the space
well.”

I took a sip, remembering how I changed a few
things after he left. I wasn’t going to plant the collards he
wanted, or the okra.

“We can do the first row of green beans,
peas, pea pods, cucumbers, and the carrots, beets, turnips,
collards and of course lettuce,” I read off the list.

He grinned at that, knowing how much I love
salads. The memory danced across my mind of him having the
opportunity to buy anything he wanted at the bulk food store and
chose to buy lettuce, for me.

“I have enough trellises in place to do three
plantings of the peas and pea pods,” I said. “By planting every
three weeks we can have a continuous harvest of those. I know shell
peas take so much room to get so little, but they’re so good and I
really like them. We can put them against the chickens’ fence. When
the second sowing is producing, the first will be pulled up and
replanted. The cucumbers can manage on the same trellis. I’ll plant
half the width, wait until it starts flowering, then plant the
other half. This way we can have fresh cukes and peas well into
October.”

John nodded.

“Green beans will be done similar, for a
different reason,” I explained to John. “Beans are usually quite
prolific, and as much as we will need to feed all of us, they will
likely still overproduce. I have only so much time for canning, and
I don’t want to be needlessly overwhelmed. The beans will be
planted in three stages, giving us plenty to eat, without having
bushels full all at once.”

It crossed my mind then, that I should teach
all of my family how to can.

“I think we should do a small patch of corn,
too. Four rows maybe six or eight feet long. They should ripen all
at once, no way around that, so we will have some to eat and a few
dozen to can.”

“Why four rows?” John asked. “And is there
really enough room for everything?”

“For pollination four rows is the minimum.
When we do that spot, it might be more, maybe five rows. It will
have to wait a day or two though. Those seeds need to soak at least
overnight. We will double up certain things. The winter squash,
like pumpkins and acorn, can be planted right with the corn, so
yes, there’s room.” I could already taste the crunch of those
golden kernels.

“You have all the seeds you need?”

“When I bought my heirloom seeds a year ago,
I bought way more than I knew I could use in one year. I have
plenty.” I answered. My coffee was getting cold. I got up to
retrieve the pot for us. “I’ve been into town only twice in the
last few weeks, and there was very little available. It seems
everyone is planting a garden this year and that’s a good
thing!”

A thought kicked across my mind. I needed to
talk to Anna. While John got started with the last of the raking,
and after promising I wouldn’t be long, I made a quick trip into
Moose Creek.

* * *

“You want to do what?” Anna asked
curiously.

“I think the town needs its own community
garden,” I repeated. “That acre next to Bradley’s house would be
perfect. Everyone can walk to it, and it’s in full sun. I think
Bradley would be pleased.” He was one we lost to the flu epidemic
that decimated the town this past spring. “I can donate some seed;
others will have to come up with seed too. I’ll even help lay it
out. It can be done in personal plots, or all as one. That will be
up to the townsfolk. Anna, the town has to feed itself,” I said,
remembering all too well how the town nearly starved to death this
past winter.

“I agree. What do you suggest we do?”

“First we have to find someone with a tractor
that can plow and disc the land. Once that’s done, we’ll get
Carolyn involved and plan it out.”

Carolyn was our local minister, and she was
pivotal in keeping The Stone Soup Kitchen functioning, and keeping
the people united during our very dark time. I just knew she would
do it again. Being a minister fit her well; she had a kind and
loving soul.

“Okay, let me work on it. What are you doing
today?” Anna asked.

“I’m going back home and plant my garden!” I
stopped when I got to the door. “Oh, and Anna, John is back.” I
left her stunned with my announcement. I know I smirked all the way
home.

The day was long, hot and productive. With
both of us working, we got half of the garden planted. In another
week or two we can put in a good portion of the plants I had
growing in the house that were staying protected from a possible
late frost. Two weeks after that the rest of the seeds could go in
along with the second planting of vegetable seeds we did today.