If You Drive Through a Muddy Trench, You Will Get Stuck

Yesterday we woke to more rain. Mid-morning, I grew concerned about our van. We had parked it up near the road, but I knew we had Bible study in the evening and did not want a repeat of last week. Phil went to back the van out.

And promptly got stuck in the ditch that opened up beneath him (yet another ditch from when we buried our hydrants). The ground looked solid enough, but when he drove over it, the front wheels sank into the red clay so that the bumper touched the ground.

He was not a happy camper. “We aren’t going anywhere—why did you want me to back out?” And, due to the angle of the van, the truck couldn’t pull the van out this time.

Phil went to the quarry to get a load of gravel. We needed to widen our driveway, and now we needed it for a parking area up near the road. On his return, he spread gravel until he figured we could get the van out.

As he drove the truck into position, the truck sank into the trench dug on the other side of our driveway for our electrical lines, and was stuck.

I was not a very supportive wife. Grumpy, bickering children, two stuck vehicles, chill rain, and, perhaps, sleep deprivation made me throw up my hands in despair. Phil shoveled gravel under the wheels of the truck, and got it out within a few minutes (I couldn’t believe how quickly). Then he shoveled gravel under the van tires, and he and the older boys pushed the van and I drove it out.

Shortly after that, we went to the Bessettes. I think I fell asleep for over an hour, so I must have been tired. Amazing how much better my perspective was after that nap!

Phil continues to battle whatever bug he picked up flying to Colorado last week. Today Abraham and Jadon also fell mildly ill, enough that they lounged around and had no appetite, but nothing came out of their bodies that shouldn’t. I am quite thankful for that. I fear that they may still be ill when we travel for Thanksgiving, in which case we shan’t be the poster children for healthy country living.

Despite his continued convalescence, Phil picked up another load of sawdust for our trees and latrine, and moved the sheep and the goats again. Last year when we camped on the land for two weeks, Phil had dug ridges in the soil where we intended to put our garden, and we sowed a large quantity of cover crops there. The cover crops did not germinate very well, we thought when we returned in July, but now the troughs are filled with grasses (though the ridges remain almost bare). When we turned the animals in to their new paddock, I was thrilled to see the grasses come up to Crystal the goat’s belly. And when we set their next paddock up, some of the oat grass came above my knees. It is a thin stand, but it has good height!

The 50 chicks and 5 guineas enjoy their outdoor home. There are several tallish grass clusters, and they hide in those clusters, as if it’s a jungle playground.

Phil moved a straw bale today and we found two skinks underneath. Isaiah and Abigail played with them for a while. I didn’t ask what happened to them in the end—I’m not sure I want to know. I will hope that the skinks are happily hidden somewhere far from chickens that might find them palatable.