Taming The Wild

It is the growing season.

I am whelmed and soon to be overwhelmed. I need reinforcements. Who better to call than Bob. Bob has been a tractor guy all of his life. My single blade machete is no match for the 6-foot tall weeds, verdant and robust grasses and most dastardly of all - the black berry infested ground with brambles of vicious thorns.

Bob arrives from 32 miles away in La Conner with his tractor and brush hog implement to do battle over my 50 acres. His arrival in the second week of July in as welcome of a sight as that of the US Calvary coming over the hill to rescue the settler's wagon train in an old Hollywood Western movie.

The 'calvary' rides to rescue. Bob & tractor to battle my overgrown estate

Bob, his trusty Ford tractor and its weed chewing implements are unloaded. I discuss my priorities with Bob and he fires up the beast and gets to mowing. We start with the easy stuff, the tall, but easily dispatched weeds on the 10 acre parcel in front of the house. This will beat back the encroaching and obscuring growth that threatens to overrun my house.

Trimming begins along the driveway supply line

As all military strategist know, it is of supreme importance to maintain open supply lines. In my case, keeping the driveway clear and free from the tendrils of the black berry vines is my vital supply line that must be maintained.

Efforts are made in subsequent days to cut a route to Pilchuck Creek from my back 40 acres. However, not even 50 HP Ford is able to make a complete break through the thicket of blackberry brambles. Creek access from my own property remains unattainable for me, yet I rejoice in any and all progress against the undergrowth.

The thick foliage surrounding the house is cut down to size. A clean, fresh view is welcomed.

Noticeable improvement; Before and After of the 10 ac field

A swath is cut to the water well in what was once the barnyard

Clearing a path into the Back 40 through dense forest.

Bob perseveres for 3 days of man and machine against nature. Much is accomplished, but not without casualties; sheared bolts had to be improvised and replaced, broken welds, a leaking hydraulic line and the time-consuming effort to disentangle the rusty springs and wires from an old mattress left in the grass by previous trashy renters that gummed up the bush hog's blades. It seems, nothing is ever easy out on The Pilchuck.

The place looks far better after Bob's generous time and onerous efforts. There was some doubt as whether the hitch on his truck would hold long enough to get tractor and trailer back from whence they came. The good news is that the hitch, though warped and damaged, did hold and there was no runaway trailer running off the county road careening across Highway 20 on his return to La Conner.

My heartfelt thanks to my sister-in-law Ann, for letting her husband take care of my place at the neglect of her and the numerous chores back on the home front.

A well-mowed field is a welcome sight. My weeds and cortisol level are reduce proportionate to the reduced size of the once overgrown estate.

Summertime, and the living is easy - after a lot of hard work.