Friends are asking, “What the heck? Why is your substack silent?”
The answer is two-fold: Toiling under the sun in 95+ degree weather drains you of energy, plus it’s tough to squeeze a good story out of cleaning ponds day in and day out. Add to that my failure to keep up with the latest shocking and depressing news (End of days as some see it) and my mind draws a blank.
Then again what am I doing here on Substack if I can’t make a good story out of my relationship with my new pals Milfoil, Duckweed and Slime?
Joking aside, I’m happy to be employed, and this heat aint nuthin compared to back home in Japan. Here was the 体感温度 (taikan ondo) today for Hamamatsu (celcius):
taikan=body feeling ondo=temperature. The sentence below says “because of the humidity, it will feel hotter.” (“Thank you, Captain Obvious” is not a common expression in Japan).
My son Andy’s twin brother Tom reports getting heatstroke today and throwing up all the water he should have drunk before badminton practice and not during. So according to the heat/humidity/wind algorithm, back home it’s 115F. I’ll take a dry, Montana 98 any day.
The going rate for labor here is a bit lower than wealthy Seattle. My buddy Sean, a large-projects painting contractor, says he has trouble finding guys to work for upwards of 50 bucks an hour!
-Why? because they’re still paid not to work during the pandemic?
-No, because they can’t get a date if they say they’re painters.
I’m glad I’m not in the dating market.
-It’s nice to meet you, Yorlinda.
-It’s nice to meet you too, Daniel. What do you do?
-I harvest invasive weeds and muck. Would you like another sweet vermouth with a twist?
Though the weather west of the Cascades is cooler and the wages are higher, I’m glad I’m here in Montana and not back in my home town.
Here, a few more snapshots from our five days in Seattle:
Oh, give it a rest, already! Green-hair Molly, in the advertising and public-service announcements department at Metro, is champing at the bit for the next mask mandate. She’s so sure (or hopeful) that it’s coming, she’s ordered these out-of-date posters not be removed.
Making sure the cull-shots are free and readily available in the diverse parts of town.
Seriously? Zoom in on the SUV. You got those bumper-stickers backwards, Karen.
At cousin Darcie’s house. Coffee-table reading that would cause some of my Montana friends to foam and quiver.
So yes, I’ll trade all of that for this:
Invasive shoreline vegetation mostly hacked away. Now it’s time to deputrefy this brown slime-bog.
Tools of the trade back at HQ.
I won’t get into detail, but the usual M.O. for a pond cleaning is like this:
drag the bottom and pull out all the weeds
rake in all the loose stuff on the surface
cut whatever is still connected to the bottom
repeat step 2
add nutrients
toss in an all-natural die for good measure
Step 1 is the dirtiest and hardest, so you start your day by getting wet, mucky and tired.
That’s about all I will mention of ponds for now. There is other work, usually one day a week. Lee and Martha run a really cool B&B out near the Idaho border of Highway 12. We are building them a power station that will make their electricity nearly free.
Big Joe can construct just about anything. Here he stands before the nearly-complete shed for the hydroelectric station generator. All the wood, from the sturdy timbers on the bridge below, to the smallest slats, are from trees on the property.
I almost look like a carpenter who knows what he’s doing. Actually, I’m waiting for instructions from Big Joe.
Joe- I need a 58 inch 1 and a half incher.
Me- (after cutting with miter saw-easy) OK. Here you are.
J- You’re gonna have to cut that to 8 and-a-half width.
M- On the table saw?
J- Yep.
M- So my hand will be pretty close to the blade when I’m ripping.
J-Yep. (I thought about the 8th grader back in jr. high wood shop who took a block of wood at 75mph to the forehead, while running the table saw.)
M- …
J- Use the pusher.
M- …
J-You need help?
M- Well…
J- I’ll come help you.
Learning power tools is pretty fun, and Martha makes an amazing lunch for the workers, including home-baked bread, so working at the B&B is a great break from the muck.
But don’t get me wrong. I like the pond work. Turning an overgrown bog…
…into something pleasant is quite rewarding.
And sometimes the pond and scenery are so good you don’t really mind the hard work at all.
Next: Bitterroot Personalities- part 1
22. All work and no play
Ok, Dan. You’ve really got me missing Montana. However, you are highlighting a problem that shouldn’t exist. There is a shortage of young men willing to work. Muckraking would normally be the entry level job for a young guy fresh out of high school. Where are those guys? Don’t get me wrong. I think it’s awesome you are learning valuable skills and getting "farmer strong" at the same time. Your innate curiosity about life is serving you well.