Growing the Farm

I have found that it is much more difficult to walk the furrows of a heavily watered field. It is too early to see any sprouts, but the water has come in plentiful this month, and all the fields are getting well watered.

This evening after supper I sat with Diana and talked for a while. She really has a kind heart, but she really misses Dale. She is worried about Kib growing up without a father. The hired hands have not been any kind of a father figure to him, and in fact often act younger than he does.

We also talked about her plans to cut more fields. It seems like her desire to grow the farm has pretty much run its course. She now makes a comfortable living, and can go into town when she wants. I broached the idea of clearing and selling new acreage, but she was pretty skeptical. She is not sure she want to share her watering hole. She is probably wise. That would introduce some difficult water squabbles.

Children on the Move

One of the blacksmith's boys, Soltair, stopped by today. He said that Loomis has sent two of his kids in the direction of the capitol, but no one knew why, and Loomis won't even talk about it. Soltair also said that his father had asked him to go to the capitol, and keep his ears out for any word being passed around about the Greenhollow road.

Before he left I gave him a note, and told him to deliver it to the king or one of his sons only. I also told him that if he had trouble to tell them that Anarion sent him. I only explained that Anarion is the name that I went by when I stayed in Darkan. Any other tidings the king may want he will have to seek out himself.

The Swamp Returns

I have decided to try a dawn and dusk approach to the druidic rite. I can walk down every other furrow in the field in about an hour. I make a small pretense of weeding so the other hands don't get too creeped out with the druid stuff, as they call it. They think I am absurd taking care of the field the way I do, and I don't even know if it will have any effect. But I'm in it for a season, and we'll see.

The water in the pasture is rising, and we are starting to be able to drain some of it into the planted fields through a rather well thought out series of tiny canals. I asked Diana about the watering technique, and she credited the drainage ditches to Dale before he died.

She also explained that water rises each month as the moon waxes and recedes as it wanes. She also explained that each month it rises a little higher as we approach the solstices and the equinoxes. So even in the driest years there is some water available every third month.

Sunday Cleanup

There were a lot of bandages and bruises at the services today. Most of the men kept quiet during the services, then went over to the inn to help with what repairs could be made to the furniture. There were a lot of downcast eyes and a lot of apologies, and a general feeling of camaraderie as everyone scattered back to their homes.

I was able to catch the blacksmith and the innkeeper for a few minutes alone. We were all very concerned about Loomis' demeanor, and anxious to prevent whatever plans he was making, but we were extremely worried about the road being closed down, and the economic impact that would have on the town.

The blacksmith said that one of his sons still worked out at Loomis' farm and would personally go for a visit. He also agreed to send one of his sons to the castle to keep his ear to the ground. If the entire region is going to avoid the Greenhollow road we need to know about it.

Beyond that, we didn't settle on any specific plans other than to keep our eyes and ears open.

Loomis Looses One of Nine

Planting done, and Sunday services tomorrow means that tonight is a party at the inn. The other hands agreed to drag me along to their weekly ritual of spending most of the weeks' earnings on drinking games that no one remembers. I suppose that is why they continue to do it week after week. Needless to say I did not 'indulge' as much as they did.

I was just about to leave dragging my comrads with me when I heard a conversation that went something like this:

"Dragons!" said a voice that I didn't recognize. "What the..."

At this point several other voices shushed the speaker and stuffed him into a chair. The man stared across the table at none other than Loomis of the giant bats.

Over the next few minutes I worked my way to where I could the conversation.

"You mean to tell me..." said the man who had blasted the previous exclamation, "...that there are dragons living just up the hill from this town right now!? And you are okay with that!?"

"No. no. ------- no." said Loomis. "I mean yes, there are ------- dragons living over in the cliffs, but no, we are not just ------- sitting here ------- being ------- okay with it. I have a ----- ------ -------- plan, and just need a couple extra long lengths of ------ rope."

"So! You want me to give you ten crowns worth of rope that my wife and daughters spent all winter making, so you can go get it burned up chasing dragons!? Why would I do something that stupid?"

"Well first of all I am not ------- going to get them burned up. The dragons ain't old enough to blow -------- flame" said a very self-important and proud-of-his-knowledge farmer Loomis.

"Absolutely not. And I'll tell you another thing." the mans voice began to grow louder as he began to grind his teeth in rage and his face began to turn red. "I promise you that if you don't take care of your -------- -------- -------- dragon problem, you will not see another caravan this side of the tower road."

The last words came out more of a growl than actual words, but the entire party of travellers stood up, and went straight to the inn keeper. As far as I could tell they cancelled their rooms and set out for home that very minute.

I would have thought the nights excitement was over when Loomis was suddenly flat on his back from a right hook that came out of nowhere. With men scrambling in every direction, I dove straight into the chest of the man that had landed the punch in an attempt to avert an all out brawl.

As you can imagine I was a bit shocked when I just bounced of the man, and landed on my knees at his feet. It was the blacksmith, and he pinned poor Loomis to the ground and just started yelling into his face...

"Are you TRYING to drive people out of town!?" there was some sputtering from the floor. "What did you think you were doing; trying to steal from our guests, and senselessly scaring them with stories of dragons that have not even been seen except as distant shadows over the waste? You just lost Jarick three nights lodging, lost me the job of shoeing four horses, and cost Merik a full load of supplies. All of which were already ordered. And to top it all off, those men are going to alert everyone in the region. This road will be shut down entirely if we can't calm them down before they get out of town."

At this point he began to raise his fist preparing a devastating blow. Have you ever seen the arm of a blacksmith? Wow!

"If I EVER hear you speak the word DRAGON again I swear I'll bash you into jelly and feed you to them myself!!!"

Fearing for poor Loomis's life I lept at the blacksmith, but was too late. Lucky for Loomis, the fist slammed through the floorboards less than an inch from his head, and the blacksmith stood up and stamped out.

Everyone in the inn stood in absolute silence as he left. Then a few whispers grew quickly into a riot as the whole town either rushed Loomis or rushed to stop them. In all my years I have not seen a tavern erupt so quickly into a brawl.

I did what I could to drag my fellow farm hands from the inn, but we all ended up pretty scuffed up before we burst into the night air. There was no sign of the travellers, and we were in no condition to go looking. We didn't even say a word all the way back to our bunks.

Hot, Tired, and Locked in a Box

This week has been absolutely exhausting. Apparently 'sale' means drive a train up to the store, and tell your underpaid child labor to unload it. And not just drag it into the warehouse, but stack it. Can you believe that, stacking couches. Next week promises to be just as exciting as we unstack them, move them to the showroom, and then deliver them to everyone in town who thinks it is so great that a father can teach his son how to work. Somehow, that doesn't feel like a 'Thank you for carrying our new living room in."

Then to top that, today turns out to be two parties. So twice my house has filled with giggling silly ladies cooing over bowls and knives and face-wash. Meanwhile the 'great guy' who gave up his game night gets to stay in his tiny little bedroom all Saturday. And believe it or not our cooler is not keeping up with the the hot air from the parties.

Summer :(

My life feels like a mindless monotony. I haven't seen Trish for over a week. There hasn't even been so much as a light on over at her house, and her family was not at church on Sunday. Probably a family vacation.

I work for my dad down at the shop every day except Sundays, but I never seem to make any money. I wonder if my dad wasn't my boss if I would actually be able to make a real paycheck instead of 'saving for college'. On the bright side, my dad let me hire Jack, one of my friends, to help load and unload furniture. It is a lot better than that old Mr. Alfred. I am not even sure he can speak English. It's not that I have anything against Eastern Europeans or immigrants in general, but he is so boring. He could at least laugh at my stupid faces when we lift something heavy.

Oh, ya. And to top it off, I have to cancel my game this Saturday because one of my Mom's Mary Kay ladies can't find a place to have her party. So, of course 'we' volunteered to cancel MY game night. It's weeks like this I almost wish I was back in school.