Let It Grow Organic Gardens

And I resumed the struggle. -Vladimir

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

Many Are Called, Few Are Chosen

My next post will be made from my condo beside the golf course in the hill country outside of Austin, TX. My brand new truck will be parked outside, and my cell phone will be beside me.The company credit card will be tucked safely inside me wallet, and my clubs will be resting in the foyer.
It's Christmas season again, with some amount of shopping days left, the halls decked with boughs of holly, and the days merry and bright. The good people of Austin will need Christmas trees, and that's where I come in.
The drill has been the same four years in a row, now. A Christmas tree farm in Boone has been taking its trees to Austin for some twenty years, now. Ten or more lots are set up - encircling the city not unlike the seize of Leningrad, no rich neighborhood going uncovered. Managers are hired for each lot - that's what I've done in years gone by. Stay in a trailor on the lot, lift trees all day, get muddy and cold and wet and then do the same thing the next day. That was the old days. I don't do that any more. Now, I drive around in a new truck all day, visiting each lot, advising and trouble-shooting. They call me a supervisor.
I'm not quite sure what that means, but I'll be finding out in the coming weeks. It's somewhere between mentor and gopher, somewhere between psychoanylist and whipping post.
One thing it means to me is that I'll be clean. I'll leave my condo and walk past the manicured lawn to my new truck (which will start everytime,) drive to various tree lots, and gingerly step through the mud on my way inside. I'll return every evening just as fresh as I left. A far cry from the farming life, where I can't get from my front door to my truck without seeing something left undone, something dirty and oily that needs to be picked up and moved, and there goes my clean shirt ....
I won't be scrambling around to fix a bunch of rusty old stuff with baling wire and duct tape; I'll make a few phone calls and things will get done.
I'll be joining the upper echelon of society, and I may never be the same again.


  • At November 08, 2005 10:35 PM, Blogger spiral said…

    Okay, this post made me think of a Cake song: "I want a girl with a short skirt and a loooooonnnnggg jacket." Do you know it? "I want a girl with smooth liquidation. I want a girl with good dividends. She's changing her name from Kitty to Karen. She's trading her MG for a white Chrysler LeBaron . . . She wants a car with a cupholder armrest. She wants a car that will get her there."

    I may have misquoted a bit, but I think you get the gist. I can see you wearing some shades, grooving along a long Texas highway bopping your head while singing in your truck. Happy travels.

  • At November 12, 2005 9:25 AM, Blogger dublinroots said…

    you will be missed, but in your travels from tree to tree, take care of ren for me....i'm now blogged in, this is fun

  • At November 16, 2005 9:49 PM, Blogger shannon said…

    Hi, do you think you could stop by and take a look at the pictures I posted today of the (little) I have of a greenhouse structure...I'm trying to figure out what parts I should be looking into buying but can't envision how the whole thing goes together. When we came to look at the house there was a hoop house type frame covered with a thick tarp cover that had a big zippered door - it was a garage for the old owner's RV. Thank you so much! Hugs, Shannon


  • At December 05, 2005 4:09 PM, Blogger amy said…

    i can't wait to hear your version of the collarbone-breaking incident, as the story circulating hot springs is pretty wild, mr. supervisor. do tell.

    glad to hear everything seems to be going so well.


Post a Comment

<< Home


Powered by Blogger