As a child one of my enjoyments was working in a garden. My parents loved to garden and it rubbed off on me. At one point I was working for a handicapped man down the street who taught me how to raise vegetables, strawberries and the like. All summer long he sat in a chair at the edge of the garden and coached me. “Put more manure in the base of that hole!” he would shout across the garden. And during that summer I watched magnificent produce come from that garden. Squash and beans and lettuce and spinach. I was amazed as I recalled the seeds that came out of jars from the past year’s harvest. And the strawberries! I would pick quart upon quart and 25¢ a basket just saying “grow!” so that I would receive more money and more work. It didn’t matter how hot it was. It was just an incredible existence. Each day I would head to his little farm, to feed the chickens, pick up eggs and go pick the first strawberries of the day. Later in the summer I would pick vegetables for hours so that he would sell them. Each fall we would collect the leftovers and he and his wife would gather the seeds for the next year’s plantings. Continue reading Just A Garden Variety Kind Of Person
Tag Archives: Mr. Arbuckle
Working On The Little Farm
Because I had done so much snow removal and lawn cutting there were various neighbors who thought I could be helpful to them. One of them was an older man originally from Putney Vermont. His name was Ben. He and his wife were confined for the most part to the chairs they carried around. They would move the chairs from one section to another in their yard.
Their yard was like a mini farm. Behind the house were strawberries and blackberries. On his porch the refrigerator carried eggs and produce and people just left money in the coffee can. Across the street was his chicken coop with geese, ducks and chickens. And a garden.
As his and his wife became more disabled he needed more and more help. He asked my parents if I would come work for him. They said “yes.” I loved money so this was an easy thought process. He would pay me a $.50 a day to come down in the morning and evening. Each morning I got up and raced down the road. Taking the two 5 gallon pails up to his house, I would need to get 2 pails of water to take down to the chicken coop. In the garage I would get their feed out and scatter it to the yard for them. I would grab their eggs and take the basket up to his house and wash off the eggs. Putting them in cartons, I would then head back to make the school bus. I did the same in the afternoon. Continue reading Working On The Little Farm