Slowly but surely, the land is transforming from an overgrown tangle of honeysuckle and thistles to a usable piece of property.  I’m keeping as many trees as I can for the shade and the CO2 factor, but the honeysuckle I will try to get under control over the next couple of years.

I have a lot of plans for the property, and so far, my dad is on board with the things I want to do.  For starters, the building where my parents had their ceramic business will be gutted, cleaned up, and converted into an indoor, hydroponic growing facility for organic vegetables.  The building has sat dormant for probably twelve years because when my mom’s health gave out on her, they had to shut down the ceramic shop, so cleaning it up and getting it usable will take some time.  I would like to try to get far enough along to buy one unit and do a test crop of tomatoes over the winter.  If that goes well, then we’ll expand as we can until the building is to capacity.  We’ve also talked about a few other crops on different parts of the land, but we haven’t decided on those yet.

Another aspect of my plan involves installing solar panels on the roof of the building to produce energy.  Eventually, I would like to make the farm self-sufficient, but that will take time.  For now, I just want to capitalize on the southern facing rooftop that gets about four to five hours of direct sunlight every day.  Thinking long-term, the investment now could really pay dividends down the road as energy costs continue to climb.  One cool thing I learned is that Sharp has a facility here in Tennessee that produces solar panels, so we’ll more than likely go with them.

I’m sure some of you are shocked to learn that I’m starting up a farm because all you’ve known of me is the English teacher and the writer, but I’ve always had a yearning to do this.  Growing things is stamped on my DNA.  My mom could grow rice in the desert, and up until my dad, who grew up in that period when America was transforming from an agricultural to an industrial nation, my family has farmed for generations.  I fully expect to continue teaching and writing for several years, but I need to supplement my income with something that is long-term and sustainable.  I’ve been mulling this over for several years, and I’ve finally decided that it is the most feasible course I can take.

That’s all for now.  Time to get back outside.

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I’m taking a break from the worst of the heat, eating a bite of lunch and cooling off by my fan.  I’m nearly done with the hardest part of the job, which is clearing a pile of rubble near the old springhouse.  About thirty years ago, my great, great uncle died in a house fire on that spot.  Firefighters extracted his body, and pretty much all that was left of the home were the bricks and stones.  For some reason, my grandfather decided to have all of it pushed into a big pile and then left it there.  I was a kid at the time, so I don’t remember why he did that, but for all these years, that pile has sat there, becoming a mound for sumac and honeysuckle to thrive on.

When I first made the decision to clear the land, one of my first objectives was to clean up around the springhouse.  It’s some of the best land on all of the property and, other than the pile of rubble, was always well-kept and beautiful when I was a kid.  As I cleared away the honeysuckle and sumacs, I decided that the pile needed to go, too, so for the last week or so, I have worked steadily to remove it.  The job has been much more than I ever expected it to be.  Over the years, a lot of thick, fertile soil has built up in the pile, making it difficult to get out the chunks of brick and stone.  Because of all the large chunks of those, it’s hard to dig in it with a shovel.  Also, I’ve been trying to recover some of the bricks that are still in pretty good shape, so I’m being fairly careful as I go through it.

Yes, it would’ve been much simpler to get a Bobcat and just level it, but a big part of why I’m doing this is to lose weight and get healthier, so the exercise has been fantastic.  Also, and this is hard to explain, but there is something about doing it by hand that feels more respectful and dignified for the property.  Preston and Rico may be the only two who get that.  It’s not about speed and efficiency.  It’s about connecting with a place that my great, great grandfather worked by hand.  I may be romanticizing it too much, but that’s how I feel.

Once last thing.  I meant to announce this the other day and got too busy with school.  The Ramblings of D. A. Adams is now over one year old.  Thank you to all of you who read this blog regularly.  It means more to me than you can know.

That’s all for now.

Dad rented an Outback Billie Goat, which for those of you who don’t know is a walk-behind brush cutter, and we’ve been working all day on clearing the land around our old springhouse.  Not too long ago, the land was in pretty good shape, but then Dad started having trouble with his riding mower, and the people who started cutting the grass for him wanted too much to do that section also, so before you knew it, a couple of years had passed and the entire area was overgrown.  I feel partially responsible because I should’ve been helping out more along the way, but I’ve been dealing with my own shit.  Until recently, the yard just didn’t seem all that important.  Now, I understand that I might be in a better place emotionally if I had focused on this work, but that’s a different topic altogether.

To the point, we now have a pretty good mess to clean up.

The Billie Goat is a neat little machine.  It cuts pretty well and is fairly easy to navigate.  The only difficult thing is that even though it’s self-propelled, on slopes, you have to wrestle it quite a bit to keep it moving in a straight line.  If I were in a little better shape, that wouldn’t be a big deal, but as it is, I’m pretty whipped right now.  I’m feeling every single one of my 37 years.  Still, it feels good to help Dad out like this.  He’s gotten to the age where he simply can’t do the things he used to, and it bothers him.  I can see that he’s happy watching the land come back into shape.

One bit of excitement, after I cut a path with the Goat, Dad mows behind me on the rider to cut it to a normal length, and at one point, while I was cutting along the creek bank, he waved me to him and showed me that he had just run over a copperhead, slicing it to ribbons.  I had just finished walking through that same area a little bit earlier with the Goat, so it gave me quite a chill.  For those of you who don’t know, snakes and spiders mess with me.  I had a really bad experience with a wolf spider as a boy, and snakes are just fucking sneaky, creepy bastards.  I’ve been extra careful since I saw its pieces wriggling on the ground.

So that’s been my day.  I lost my membership to the cool kids club years ago, so I’m not worried about what anyone will think of me clearing land, and even though I don’t exactly feel like a literary giant as I wrestle with the Goat, I’m feeling fairly content with who I am and what I’m accomplishing.

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