Ever Try to Order Ten Tons of Minerals?

For much of my life, I’ve suffered from severe phone-a-phobia—I don’t want to call people. (Is this a real malady? Perhaps. I inherited it from my mother.) So it is stretching for me to contact different people. I had a long list of phone calls to make today, but then I came up with a lot of good excuses: the well drillers were drilling most of the day, so it was loud; Phil was away checking emails and craigslist, so what would happen if the boys were naughty; oh! I can’t order anything anyway because my wallet was in the computer bag with Phil.

So I was proud of myself: when Phil returned, I made a lot of calls. The biggest triumph was successfully placing an order for the minerals for my land. This required more than you might imagine. I had already sent in the soil sample and received a list of what I needed. In trying to find the ingredients, I contacted their “source” man, who turned out to be “for larger operations.” That made me feel a little ridiculous, but how do you know unless you ask? Then I called the lab and talked to their man for some time, figuring out how and where to order.

Then I had to figure out how to spread ten tons of minerals. Neighbor Butch can use his tractor, and we can rent a “buggy” that will do the spreading. (Often just knowing the right vocabulary is the key to getting what you need.) So I contacted the place that rents the buggy to see if they accept large deliveries; they were not enthusiastic about having to unload and store 10 tons. “I’ve never heard of anything like that; what are you planning to put on?” (For the record, five tons of it is soft rock phosphate, and there are other places around the world that do such soil programs. Just not, apparently, around here.)

I then called the distributor. The first young man was a bit clueless, so it was like the blind leading the blind. Eventually we both realized that what I want was a “custom blend.” Incredibly, they can combine all the things that I want, from 10,000 pounds of soft rock phosphate down to 10 quarts of a microbial product, into a blended product that will ship in “totes” (another good word to know) via UPS freight. I will need a “skid loader with forks” to unload the one ton totes on their pallets.

That was all good. And Phil helped me level some mounds of dirt left from the bulldozer flattening our pad, so we have a level spot (now with lots of flattened boxes on it) where the compost can be delivered tomorrow.

The sad thing for me, and it is a bit silly, is that we aren’t getting any more animals, at least not today or tomorrow. I had my heart set on the Tamworth piglets, but even at $100 a pop, they were sold out before I called. I called about barn cats, but they need a place to stay for the first three to seven days so they won’t bolt, and we’re not sure what that would look like. The sheep I had my eye on are about three hours away. And chickens need more of a structured dwelling before we get them. It’s yet more patience for me.

The sad thing for Phil was that, as he was preparing to check his email, his computer slipped from his grasp and fell, screen side down, on the floor. Although we doubt the hardrive was affected, the computer is unusable. A forty minute drive later (20 home, 20 back to our friends’), he realized that his large Mac was not working properly, and that he had left his phone back with me, so all the calls he hoped to make were then impossible. (Among them a call to the electric company! Argh!) “I’ve never had a less productive day!” he said.

And in a crushing blow (for all the Mac lovers out there), Charlottesville does not even have a Mac store! How a university town can survive without one is beyond me, but apparently another trip to Richmond is in our future. Maybe we can get by with just shipping it.