Just Call Me Batman

Batman battled Poison Ivy. So did I.

Last Friday I was walking through the orchard and noticed the telltale shiny leaves. After pulling vines last summer and fall, I had conveniently forgotten their presence. What a bummer to have them return!

But as I pulled vines today, I grew encouraged. Areas near the house that I remember pulling last year show no signs of return growth this year. So, at least in some spots, I have eradicated the painful plant.

My method today was to take the area between two rows of trees and pull all I could find. This way I could measurably track my progress. I didn't finish the task, but I would estimate I finished half of it. That's good!

Phil spent some time chipping one wood pile that lies on the path of a row of peaches. So we didn't actually get any more trees in the ground, but we're doing the necessary support stuff so that the trees will go in quickly one of these days.

Today had a few rough spots. We went to milk the cows this morning, but two decided to enter the milking headgate at once. And those two aren't good friends. While Bianca tried to gore Fern, their writhing bodies finally took out our perimeter cattle panel. And we couldn't get the headgate open (my inexpert knots tightened rock-hard under the strain of 1200 pounds of bovine), so Fern made good her escape.

The two hours that followed were same-old, same-old of Lykosh animal escapes: extremely aggravating, and slightly humorous. Fern got close to the gate, so I opened it. Chrystal escaped. I told Phil to get his gun and shoot that nasty goat. He didn't. (He told me later that he didn't save her life due to her value, but simply because that wasn't the best time to process her!) We got her back in, but Fern remained loose.

Another try. Chrystal escaped again. Captured again. We would have put the goat halter on her, but the As played with it yesterday and we couldn't figure out what they'd done to it. So we slipped it around Chrystal's neck and tied her up. Phil found her a few minutes later right before she asphyxiated. He thought she'd broken her neck. I vacillated between glee that she was no longer on my hands, and sorrow at an unpleasant way to go. Sadly/gladly she was on her feet and persnickety as ever within a few minutes.

At last I wondered if we could guide her into place just with a strand of electric wire, not turned on and gradually tightened around her until she'd be forced into the paddock. Thankfully that worked. We were all ready for breakfast.

The chickens had also made a break during the fence's opening. After breakfast, Phil promised the children a quarter for any chicken they caught and put back. They had done the same task last week without promise of gain, and all involved ended up frustrated. This time, the three older children worked with good will. Phil was amazed at their efficiency and dedication!

The worst moment came when the UPS man stopped at our house and didn't deliver our expected irrigation parts. Phil had spent the remainder of the morning laying out our irrigation, laying out line and putting in emitters. We had looked for the proper parts as early as last Friday. A call to the company sadly informed me that the box hadn't even shipped yet. It has shipped now.

This left me in tears. Our trees have the slightly wrinkled, dry leaves of thirsty trees. Our irrigation was supposed to be in place last Wednesday! If only I had called the company earlier; if only I had ordered irrigation over the winter. The forecast had a possibility of thunderstorms today; would it rain? Do I spend the next six hours watering the trees by hand? What is the most faithful option? Keep working on pulling poison ivy so all future walks through the orchard will be pain free? Try to dig more holes in the clay-solid, parched ground so I can get more trees planted? Or care for the trees we already have in the ground, put there with such effort and exhaustion?

I opted for pulling poison ivy, and asked the Lord to water the trees however he chose: rain, wicked water from the ground, dew, or simply sustain the trees until the irrigation parts arrive on Thursday. May he be faithful; I don't know how much more I can do and keep my sanity and sleep at night.