The Old Goat

Wednesday I had to drive down to Columbus for a meeting. Yeah, a meeting. I actually got a job and now have to be places at precise times and take regular showers and shave. I'll write about my job later but right now I have something else on my mind. Wednesday was cloudy and rainy. I left early. The Old Goat, up early as usual, went to Wal-Mart to pick up a few things. When he got back to his house, he lost his balance while carrying in his treasures, fell onto the rock driveway, and was unable to get up. He laid there for a quarter of an hour when, fortunately, Tinker and Squeeze drove up to visit. They found The Old Goat sprawled out on the driveway, a little bruised, and a bit dazed. Scared the holy spit out of them. When I arrived home that evening, I got the low-down from Tinker. I talked to The Old Goat. He dismissed it as nothing. I thought about it at length and realizing that since I am now a working stiff there would be many times when The Old Goat would be here without me nearby. We went to dinner as usual at the catfish place on Thursday night. While fine dining, I just let it blurt out. "Dad, it is time for you to move to assisted living." That went over real well. On Friday morning, I met with the lady that runs the assisted living in Roanoke, toured the facility, met the other staff members and several of the residents. I walked away from that meeting feeling positive. I talked to The Old Goat and he thought I had lost my mind. Yet, he agreed that he would have dinner at the assisted living facility tonight (Friday) instead of going out for our usual Hamburger Night. The food was delicious. The residents welcomed The Old Goat as if he were a nice guy. He toured the place. I think he liked it. On Monday I am meeting with the director again. This time our discussion is about payments and move in dates. These last 48 hours have been stomach-churning. Putting my Dad into an assisted living facility is something I knew was coming. Just, it come faster than I thought. Tinker is absolving himself from any responsibility for the decision. I guess that is the reason I come home afterall. If I thought Dad would be better off continuing to live out here in the country, I would not have done the things I've done in the last couple of days. But, I think I have acted in his best interest. The country can be lonely. And, he is lonely. He misses the Blessed Rebecca terribly. He only interacts with me or Tinker. Even his dog spends most of her time at my house. Television is fine but it is not a friend. The assited living place gives him the chance to interact, to engage. I think he welcomes the opportunity but, of course, he will not admit, yet. I think in time he will. Or, at least, I hope he does.

No more politics, OK?

OK, enough of politics. Every time I mention anything about O’Bama, I get a ration from former friends about my wrong-headedness. OK, enough of politics. I won’t mention another thing about the community organizer who now is the chief executive of the national government.

Rather, I am going to talk about gardening. Fall and Winter are the times to talk about gardening. Larry, my neighbor, came up today and used his garden tiller attachment to his tractor to run over my gardens for next spring. What I will do now is plant a cover crop that will add some nitrogen to the soil until it goes under the plow next March. I have no less than ten gardens: the Kitchen Garden, the Herb Circle, the Flower Square, the Berry Run, the Strawberry Field, the Spud Ditch, the Squash Plot, the Melon Patch, the Asparagus Bed, and the Corn Bottom. All total, I have over an acre under cultivation.

God, I love this stuff. Growing stuff. Nurturing plants that produce all sorts of fruits. The temps dropped below freezing for a couple of nights. I had no choice but to yank up the tomatoes and the peppers and the eggplants. Thing about the peppers is that there were a number of peppers left on the plants. And, they were good despite the frost. So, I picked them and now am trying to figure out what to do with them. I do have a greenhouse in which I have lettuces and tomatoes. When I was a kid, I took baths in that wash-house that is now the greenhouse.

Looks like I might end up with a job with the Alabama Sustainable Agriculture Network (ASAN). Imagine, somebody is willing to give me a job? If it works out, I will be the Executive Director of the organization. Again, imagine that?