I’m off on book tour for Sons of Sparta. Just left Scottsdale, Arizona (where I had a
terrific time doing a joint event with Tim Hallinan at the Poisoned Pen) for
Houston, Texas and Murder by the Book. But this isn’t about either place. It’s
about the farm I left behind in New Jersey. I’ve been away from it for six
months, and though I’ve good friends looking after it, there’s a lot of work to
be done to keep the woods and pond from being overrun by invasive species.
The culprits massed along the waters edge. |
I love doing that sort of work, but this year my
schedule made it impossible to do so in what is generally the best time, the
Fall. So, I asked a friend, a former New Jersey state forest fire fighter to
help me out. To understand Bob, think Smokey the Bear, in physical vision as
well as in dedication. Nor does he wear
much more than Smokey even in the harshest of winters.
Smokey prepared to do battle. |
I’ve always known Bob to have a quick wit, but not
until this week did I realize what a natural writer he is. I just received this (unsolicited) report
from him on what he’s been doing at the farm and it had me laughing out loud.
It also got me to thinking about how two other friends
who do work on my property also possess uncanny facility with the written
word. One, who mows my fields in summer
and plows the driveway in winter, contributes to a national landscape magazine,
and the other, currently working on restoring my barn, is a renaissance man
possessing an uncanny grasp of local history.
The road less plowed. |
The barn not fallen. |
Perhaps it’s something in the water? Maybe I should change the name of the place
from “Tsoris Springs Christmas Tree Farm and Bagelry” to “Literary Springs?”
But for now I think I’ll just share Bob’s quick note
to me he titled, “Brambles and Briars”…and in the process give you some idea of
the sort of fun I’m missing out on to trod along the writers’ trail. Here goes:
The enemy's armaments. |
Hi
from Northwest New Jersey. Just wanted to let you know I started the
eradication project on your farm. You have a plethora of things with
thorns growing there.
I
am still licking my wounds after two days. Not only is the autumn/Russian
olive thorny—maybe you have both—but the multiflora, floribunda rose, and
barberry are challenging too.
I
got rained out today, but I worked Monday 10:30-18:30, eight hours, after riding
my bike four miles to the farm after dropping off my car in town for repairs,
and Tuesday I rode my bike three miles from home to town to pick up my car, worked
10:00-13:30, three and a half hours, and then picked up my son from school.
The
bow saw may not be effective for cutting larger dead wood, but for this project
it is invaluable, so are the lopping shears. My neighbor gave me a
handsaw with large teeth that also works well. The only expense so far
has been for a disposable camera to document the project for your forester and
the tax assessor.
Your
forester is going to wonder where the 3-5' Norway spruces came from. They were struggling to survive under all
that brush. Two large piles have accumulated in the field so far.
The
good news is no problems so far with bears, bees or ticks, although I did lose
my shoe down a groundhog hole on Monday.
The
only strange thing is now when I travel around town I see it...in the fields,
on the edge of streams, everywhere...autumn olive. It mocks me, growing
faster than I can cut it, gobbling up more and more otherwise productive
ground. Help me! Bye for now.
I agree, “Bye for now.”
Glad you're having fun on your book tour! (You are, right?) Thorns can hurt, but at least Smoky can lick those wounds. He's fortunate he's not fighting poison oak or poison ivy...
ReplyDeleteYep, I am EvKa, and poisoned oak an ivy are a given. They're everywhere...but usually end up on my forearms in that little space just above my gloves where the shirt sleeve rises up when caught on a thorn. It's as if the flora works together against we fauna.
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