Relative Something

Continuing with Thursday, September 23…

As I stepped out the door of the cottage for the first time in the morning, I found an unfamiliar car on the patio. Unaware of who was visiting, I decided to walk the other direction around the cottage, where I met Ian turning the corner and the car just backing out. Luis and his father had come to deliver the grape squishing device that will be used during the grape harvest on Saturday.

Ian talked through the wide number of chore options, while I assisted his effort to clean out the fresh manure from the stalls, and Cyndie cleaned the area around the stables. This is when Cyndie learned the phrase from Ian, “ship-shape and Bristol fashion.” Ian and I then hauled the bags of manure to the car and made a trip to spread it along one of the areas of vines. After that, we went down to finish the task we started the day before, cutting the bramble around the spring. It was a great reward to discover that, overnight, more water had appeared in the pool of the spring. Looking back on finishing the task of clearing the years of growth in that area, I marvel over what a monumental accomplishment it was, yet it was hardly a hint of what that garden was to become in the days and weeks that followed. I am humbled at the honor of being given the opportunity to be a participant in rearranging this space and creating, with stones and plantings, a new garden that will exist far beyond the limited time of our visit.

On our way back from the spring, Ian drove a route I had not yet seen, and when he spotted the biggest and oldest cork tree on the property, he became inspired to stop and cut around it. He described, and then showed me, how the trees form a sort of cathedral up to a spot of large moss-covered stone. The thought occurred to him that the arrangement of trees may have been inspired by cathedrals, or quite possibly, it was the other way around.

We came up for lunch and paused, to plot our next plan of attack. We had talked about running the errand of picking up sawdust for the stables, but that would wait and we decided, instead, to make a run to the supermarket for ingredients to make Friday’s dinner at Carlos’. Added to our day’s plan was the task of picking up Stephanie in town at 8 p.m., as she would be coming in on the bus. The bus makes a 55 minute drive into a 3-hour affair, but she would suffer it to join us a day early.

At the supermarket, we were able to see where Ian usually goes for his lunch and meet the nice waitress he has come to know, Christina. He reported that she had been in New York at the time of the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center towers. She appeared to be a very good-spirited person. While in town, we stopped at Carlos’ petrol station to fill the car, but Cyndie wasn’t feeling up to a visit. On the way home, Ian drove to the other side of the immediate valley to provide a view back at the farm from another perspective. It was a wonderful treat, except Cyndie wasn’t fond of the vertical view down the side at the very edge of the road. She was growing much more inclined to seek a nap, so we returned to the farm for her to do just that.

Ian and I were left to put away groceries and then decided the get the horses down to the bottom field. That meant I would walk Frida, while he was walking Lucy, which I had yet to attempt. Ian was willing to allow me to try, after checking first to see if I was willing. My foot got stepped on lightly as she pushed off once, in an abrupt position correction, but other than that, it went as well as I could ask.  We came back up and got Doll, wondering if Cyndie would still want to exercise Sebastian. I walked around the cottage to check and found her just stepping out, ready to go, after her short nap.

With her available to tend to Sebastian, Ian and I were free to cut undergrowth for feeding the horses. It had gotten cloudy while we were at the supermarket and sprinkled a little but, but now it was edging more toward being rain, though never really enough to make anything actually wet. It wasn’t enough to interrupt our plan, but this time, Ian was the only one cutting. I raked it up and stuffed it into the back of his Forester. It is part of the amazing total utilization of that vehicle. He drives it over sharp inclines and through thick growth that scuffs at the side panels. The inside contains evidence of sawdust and straggling remains of the cut underbrush. I told him he should look into a sponsorship from Subaru. It certainly is a testament to the intentions the vehicle was designed to accomplish, and not the window dressing that so many utility vehicles become. He brushes it out, folds the seats back upright, hoses off the outside, and it looks like new, ready for an errand to town.

When we returned from collecting feed for the horses, we found Cyndie in the shade house, transplanting camellias. Everything was clean and tidy in the area around the stables. It was very impressive. At this point, it was time to fetch Stephanie, which Ian did, freeing Cyndie and me to clean ourselves up before she arrived. We had a late dinner and then visited for a bit (although Cyndie spent most of that time doing the serving and then cleaning up). It reached a point where I was yawning and feeling very tired. We said goodnight and headed down to the cottage to find it was 11 p.m.

The entire day was fully and well used, especially considering the way it started, with Cyndie’s distraction of tasks that kept her from getting her fresh-peaches breakfast. No wonder she needed that nap today.