Compulsions

Hi - Back after a long absence. Sorry about the silence. Naomi covers mucho on her work blog at Concentrates but now I had to get into the fray.

A while back we came into possession of 30 old windows. They sat on the side of the house on a pallet under a tarp until they pissed our landlord off and gave me the itch to finally turn them into a greenhouse. I am not a builder but lately I have been getting these compulsions to build. Recent projects I have zombied my way through include 2 sets of bookshelves, new doors and flourishes on chicken coop, retaining wall for mudslide in front yard - due to wacky grading during the renovation 3 years ago - that has now caused some craptastic erosion. (We are renters so don't ask me). I generally work with almost all found materials - either wood I find in the area or found nicer pallets that I decon. Some purchases of 1/2" hardware cloth and 2x2's morphed into some gossamer shelves for future greenhouse already. Looking for any and all alternatives to the big chain building stores as well. Trying to avoid Home Depot and Lowe's.

Last night I built a 1/16th scale model of the greenhouse (see photo). So we walked to the Rebuilding Center today and got some hinges and brackets for the greenhouse. And hope to get some advice from my friend Luis who is a real builder in North Carolina.

Portland Veggie Truck Chronicles: a very friendly delivery day + the emergency room + The End (long, but worth reading)

Written on August 25th, 2007  (one year and four months ago, by Naomi)

I had a really peaceful morning, did a bit of cleaning and preparing for six Everglades-connected friends who are coming from out of town to visit next week (yay!). Got a bit of pre-route stretching in and Neil made me delicious veggie burgers with our onions and tomatoes and a thermos of tea to take along.

They were finished with the harvest a bit early and I was on the road by 11:45am. The first house is our only North Plains delivery. The drive is winding and hilly, passing sheep, old barns, a traditional chemical blueberry farm and then up a steep gravel road (which Neil recently saw a navy blue Bentley coming down from a house even further up...). This couple has some sheep and I could see them in a different pasture today. On my way back down I picked a few blackberries from the truck, as the branches are so vigorous and hit the truck, pushing back the mirrors, even though I am going slowly in first gear. The berries are deep and plump and I imagine they will be very floral, save them for later. When I get back to the main road, there is a semi loaded with long, freshly cut trees-now-logs blocking the exit. When we are on the route, we're not paid hourly, so it's in our interest to get in done in a timely way and great for the customers, but when you are stuck randomly like this or in lots of traffic, you just have to let go and have patience. He was tightening down all the chains on his load. This is something I am more than happy to have patience for. I don't ever want to be behind a log truck coming loose, I'm sure you don't either. When he realized I was waiting there, he looked worried, I smiled and waved, he smiled back, all is good. Another even bigger rig starts approaching down the hill the first one came from, but stopped to give me clearance out. We all gave each other a lot of space.

I was listening to KBOO and there was a beautiful singer I'd never heard before, Eliza Gilkyson, that they were playing a whole set of, a bit 'alt' folk/country. The landscape of pines and hills is so pretty up here I found myself a bit teary listening to this woman's voice weave songs of family and older times. Nostalgic for my mom, realizing we've never had a normal life in the same town since I've grown up, where we could casually see each other for a hike, dinner or tea and talking.

We just did our second farmer's market at Columbia Sportswear yesterday, it went much better than we expected, the people were really great and afterwards we got to talking with Charlie who runs Sun Gold Farm with his wife and son. His wife had come by with her mother - who is 91! and looked awesome. He told us about the history of his family and their farmland and working it together. I thought about being lucky to have lived downstairs from my Grama when I was a kid and how neat the web and closeness of his family sounded.

I also had this odd sensation I've been getting about being out 'west,' where it's normal to see huge trees shorn of all branches rolling by on trucks and on the train coming in from the coast. To wrangle with ferocious blackberries so sharp, yet bearing delicious, insanely abundant fruit. The northwest is so different from the northeast and the midwest just in feeling.

My drive to the next house goes back south passing the turn off for the farm, over Hwy 26 (aka Sunset Highway as it goes west to the Pacific Ocean), and into big stretches of farmland and the city of Hillsboro. A place that feels like it must be (now anyway) a major suburb of Portland, but then sometimes it just feels like it's own contained town that could be anywhere.

So I'm driving and in front of this one neat old barn before the burbs start, there's a sheriff who's pulled over an early 90's turquoise Ford Escort with a big orange light on it and orange construction vests in the back, two bigger white guys inside. Odd, I think, I rarely see anyone pulled over...
The farms dissolve into houses, older ones first and then the new developments and I make the turns into my second delivery. I head back out and on to Glencoe Rd. and in between this house and my next soon turn off - there is DEJA VU! but in a new location.. the sheriff has that same turquoise car pulled over again not 3 miles and ten minutes down the road with the driver pulled out, legs splayed, hands on head, lots of tattoos, grey cut-off shirt, jean shorts and work boots. The sheriff looks classic, the man pulled over.. looks classic. Sheriff intensely patting him down and holding something to his head. It was a weird enough site the first time, much stranger to move down the road and progress like that.

The route continues through Beaverton and into SW Portland. One of the houses is on a dead end street. Last week I saw a woman standing in the middle of the road, I slowed way down, it was really loud. She held a video recorder and a deeply sad expression. Loggers were cutting down the huge Douglas fir trees in what must have been an amazingly dense and vast lot, vacant of humans. I think she must be the next door neighbor. This week it was very quiet, no one in the road. The lot was completely wiped clear, torn up like a huge dirt parking lot with big equipment tracks and no traces of even the beautiful trees stumps, not a single little bush, a clear view over to the next road. The neighboring house, once shrouded by forest, is very exposed. I continued to the house and carried the basket up to the door. The owner is a really sweet woman who was a long time entomologist studying parasitic wasps I believe. She came out in this really great watermelon apron she has and gave me a tinfoil package of freshly baked cookies she'd just made. They were hot in my hand. I was so surprised and touched.

My next stop is a gas station. The odometer doesn't work, so we always stop at the same gas station, Friday and the same one in NE Portland on Tues. There was a very funny man from India who worked at this one for a long time and would ask about farming, tell me about his kids, India and would high five me when I left. Lately there is a blond woman and inside there is a vibrantly red-headed cashier I see when I use the restroom. They were both really nice today. It would be fun to bring them fruit or some flowers soon.

I heard two good interviews with poet and activist Grace Paley, one on Democracy Now from 2003 with Amy Goodman and later an interview from 1985 and '92 on Fresh Air, as she passed this Wednesday at 84.

The Portland area generally seems pretty gender balanced. Construction workers still tend to be male - sometimes very respectful to a woman driving a box truck and sometimes are still guys in a pack. There's been a lot of roofing at one house, I ignore them. Today when I was pulling around the cul de sac though, I saw them all scurry to the front of the roof. Great. I walk the basket up the hill to the porch and one of them has to shout "Nice vegetables!" Thanks. Will they ogle Neil next week? One can only dream...

I had a brief visit in Lake Oswego with my favorite route dog, a husky named Mickey and his nice owner. Apparently he hears the truck far away and often both of them are already out waiting for me when I make it around to her house which is tucked back in a beautiful section of woods at another dead end road. It's pretty cute. We chat a bit and I get a lot of happy, furry affection and kisses. She swears he's not this way with everyone. It's a highlight every Friday. Today, since school had started up, she was back to tutoring, so it was just me and Mickey.

Then I head across the Willamette River to Sellwood and deliver to a few neat victorian houses. The second house had an antelope across the street with a little free sign. It was made of paper mache and asked if it could ride in the passenger seat. How can I resist? A while back, the architecture office I worked with in Brooklyn, wanted to do a coffee table project. I had an idea to make an antelope that would be a 'coffee table' with a hidden tea service in it's tummy. Neil helped me rough it out, but we didn't have time to finish it and couldn't bring it when we moved. I plan to hide it somewhere funny in the yard for Neil to come across... maybe we can then drink tea next to it.. while the chickens try to perch the antlers.

Driving up into SE Portland I suddenly get stuck in a lot of traffic. NPR is talking about Ultimate Fighting. It's interesting, but not the most pleasant story to be stuck in traffic with. Barely inching along, it's usually slow, because I think there's no other option, but today it was hardly moving. Going the other direction were all these fun, painted-on, adventure-looking cargo vans filled with excited people. When I finally got to cross the Springwater Corridor trail (rails to trails), I saw there were runners in a race. Maybe this is part of Hood to Coast?

Then I also saw crazy camp outs, loads of tents in rather fancy lawns near Reed College in the Woodstock neighborhood. When I rang the doorbell at the house I deliver to there, I saw a beautiful harp. It's a house I often hear piano coming from and don't ring the bell, because I don't want to disturb them.

Heading out of SE Portland later, I pass the Aladdin Theater on Milwaukie, while waiting to turn onto Powell. The woman I heard on the radio 6 hours earlier, is playing there tonight and that's how I get the correct spelling for her last name... Gilkyson.

Now I am en route back across the river to Forest Heights, a very expensive neighborhood that used to be a forest and a I drive up and down a lot of heights. The customers are all super nice and today the first house, brings out their empty basket for me and asks if we did the harvests while Polly and James were out of town. I was surprised. I said yes, did we do okay?? He said oh! yes! we didn't even realize a change or that they were away for two weeks back in July. I explain we assisted Carlos, who is an incredible farmer. He talks about how beautiful it is out there - he must have just been out for a farm party I think or to pick blackberries. A few other customers did know when we were doing the harvest, too and were also really nice about it. All these interactions really add up.

Then for the first time, I ventured up into the top of the heights. We drive up this steep road and usually turn left at this crazy man-made waterfall and curve back down. Today, I had to deliver to a customer's friend up in and beyond The Waterfall. It is so steep. The brakes are getting a bit jumpy again and I am thankful to be going up, but also sensing slight vertigo, not sure how all the big houses are stacked up here? Thankfully the house I deliver to is at a level spot and then I am slowly working my way down, thinking affirmative brake thoughts...

I think about how vehicles are shiny, houses are matte. It's very rare that they're the other way around. Cars look wet, you can see reflections of buildings, trees, sky. Houses are often flat, neutral non-colors, stiff.

Another house goes by and I'm on my way to Bauer Crest Estates, to a nice family who's house looks very similar to the neighboring ones. When we learned the route, we were told to look for the one with brick pavers in the driveway. I always think that and note the bricks even though the house has become familiar. It's a very quiet neighborhood where you see some couples or families riding bikes or out for a walk, but you don't see cars parked in the street and there is very little traffic. I pull over to the left, deliver the basket, ring the bell, no one is home today. Usually a son with a basketball or the mom is. That's one of the funny things about the route, you knock or ring and head back to the truck - a little bit like ding dong ditching with vegetables. If they are home, we want them to know the goods have arrived, yet there's no time to wait, just thank you! your welcome! have a good night! - as I'm leaving for the most part.. Is that how the milk man was? He just took the empties and left the full fresh bottles? Were the any milk delivery ladies? Did they get to know certain customers, befriend dogs and neighbors?

I head back and put the empty basket in the truck and head around to get back into the truck. It's just 20 minutes past 7pm, still light out and the houses will start curving my route back towards my own home. This time all on the north side of the highway, but back through Beaverton and Hillsboro to North Plains. As I grab the door and reach my left leg to the step on the truck, I realize my right is not with me. It's caught on the rounded curb, turning upside down behind me and there's a loud crack and I'm on the ground between the curb and the front tire. The pain is deep and all I can feebly whisper to myself is sh-t, sh-t, sh-t, while crying. How did this just happen? Can I drive? I still have baskets to deliver? Realizing I use this right foot a lot on the gas and the brake. I think if I can just make it through for a bit and settle myself down and can use my left leg to launch myself up into the truck on my stomach and reach my cell phone. A bicycle wheel passes by the open door, a man in a fluorescent yellow cycling vest bends to ask if I'm alright. He says he was just coming over to ask the name of the farm, because his family is interested in joining. I get myself together, tell him the farm name, the website. He says, oh, wait, that's all okay, but we need to help you up! He and his wife hoist me over to the customer's calm green lawn. Another couple driving by stops to help. They offer to go home for ibuprofen and ice and the other couple says they can bike back and take me to the emergency room, as part of the right edge of my foot is quickly beginning to bulge out on it's own... I don't tend to need my phone much on the route and today.. the battery today is low. I quickly call Neil, (still crying). The two couples decide it is easier for the couple already driving, to take me St. Vincent's. They are so incredibly nice. We talk about accidents their children have been in. They get me a wheelchair, help me sign in, wheel me around to a good spot, get me water - are so sweet. They leave me there number n case anything comes up. Vicki and Paul. Thank you, thank you.

I get a little red pager that reminds me of the mexican restaurant, La Fuente, in Milwaukee, but I joke that there is no margarita waiting for me on the other end. Everyone finds me each time it goes off and helps wheel me to the various people that are parts of the triage and registration process. Very nice people. The radiologist told me about growing up with cattle on a dairy farm and the path that led him to his current job. We talked about ways to make a living and about farming. One of the nurses told me how just last night, one of the doctor's was saying he wanted to sign up for Pumpkin Ridge Gardens deliveries. It felt very small world to both of us. The guy who made my splint was very funny and kind and we talked about the splint's design and he said they don't use casts anymore in the ER for most breaks, because you continue to expand and contract and that can lead to - and he said some innocuous sounding thing - and that... can lead to losing your leg. We both laughed at my surprise. Jokes with the other nurses were made that not so long ago, people were kind of on their own with this injury, maybe your foot heals and maybe not. And about me becoming a professional quilt maker (instead of a farmer with only one good foot...). Any and all friendliness and humor in the hospital helps.

Neil had to go pick up the box truck and finish the route, then drive back to drop that truck off where ours was parked and find the hospital. It was soooo nice to see him. He made it just as they were finishing up with me. They showed us an x-ray and the three fractures through the 5th metatarsal. One of the most common way to break your foot, but two of the breaks are in zones 1 and 2, which apparently don't get great circulation and are hard to heal. I remembered 'osteoblasts'
from breaking my collar bone years ago and they said yes! meditate on osteoblasts! They are the cells that form our bones...

On the way out this nice older nurse asked if the other had given me a toe warmer and went off to come back with a basket filled with different colored warmers that look like a rectangular mitten or potholder. Hand knitted by her and other volunteers. It was so sweet! I found a cute red and white one, we put it on and they wheeled me on out.

So here I am now today, having been so excited to have positive updates about the route and having decided to really go for it finishing out the season and researching more farm options this winter. The broken foot is a major set back at this time in the season, but I'm still wanting to stay positive.

Then the next day, yesterday, we found out that we've lost our job and house.

The hospital had said that since I was working when this happened, that they needed to file this as workman's comp. I explained I wasn't sure if this farm had it and they said they should and regardless they file it per what a person is doing when they are injured. If you're working, it's run as workman's comp. Today when Neil went to give a sheet we were told to give them, James looked at the form, told him we are not employees and gave it back.

Okay... that really brought some tears and long conversations with family and friends. Neil went to get my crutches, prescription and other errands we needed to do today. When he came back they wanted to talk to him and the bottom line is that we are a 'liability' and they don't have the proper insurances for us to drive, so they are going to drive the route and do the deliveries in the future. I am on my own with my broken foot, they have no workman's comp or other insurance for their business and we have apparently never been employed by them regardless. Neil was told he needs to do the route, though, for two more weeks and then we are to move out or start paying rent. The estimated monthly value of this house being a bit on the high side seemed fine when we were all rationalizing what the hourly wage works out to. Anyone who has come to visit, refers to it as a tiny cabin, cottage or a shack. I was adamantly referring to it as a house and do love this little place. It does not seem like they want us to stay, it seems like they want to get rid of us, while getting our money until we can find a home and possibly try to find another driver (?) - as they know we are settled in here and they know we work for them, ourselves and for the farmer who was their last driver. It's a busy time in the season. It's a tight picture. I have a broken foot. It's a very hard time to do this.

In the coming 2 weeks:
--- This week we have six wonderful friends coming from out of town for a mini reunion and to spend time together. They will be our buffer of loving friendship and a good final celebration of our home here.

--- Neil is scheduled to work double with the other farm we work with, since I am out of commission.

--- We have a lot of vegetables in the field that need weeding, irrigating, harvesting and that's going to be all Neil.

--- We have 2 more farmer's markets on Sept 6th for Nike and the 13th for Columbia. Tricky as to whether I could make all the bouquets, since it's been a pretty physical activity during the markets - but if we have to move by September 8th ?? - those last two don't seem possible. They are a lot of work, dead-heading all the flowers so we have the freshest ones and all the harvest and loading. Losing that income, the opportunity to use the displays we just painted and made, to see the customers and organizers again is really sad.

Somewhere during all this and while I am supposed to keep my foot elevated and peaceful, Neil needs to maintain the work and commitments we have, while also finding a full time job and a place for us to live. We just spent a lot of money to move here and now Neil has to find boxes and pack everything up again, rent a truck. Doesn't seem possible. And most sadly it means we will need to abandon most of our crops, just as many of the amazing 200+ tomato plants, our tomatillos, eggplant, peppers, melon and other veggies we've been caring for and waiting on all these months for, really come on. So let's see, does that make this a pickle?

We have taken this route very seriously and given it top priority. We were asked to commit to a year plus two months, through the end of May, 2008 when this route ends and the new one starts and longer if we'd like. We have 5 chickens we raised from baby chicks, as we planned to stay at least 1 to 2 years. We double dug a large garden and planted many herbs and flowers. Pulled and cut an insane amount of blackberries and other perennial weeds. We just worked for the Olsen's in exchange for firewood, brought home and stacked two large loads to heat us through winter, in addition to the wood we got from Carlos earlier in the season. All of our mail, bills and registrations are to this address. We got here March 29th, painted the house, fixed it all up as best we could, worked on the yard, started training on the route right away with Steve who had made us the most awesome directions and was so truly diligent and helpful. Then did the deliveries together for a long time to make sure we were doing it as quickly and efficiently as we could into June after the new route started and in mid month we switched to one of us alternating days.

There are other things that happened during the time leading up to the "wall," that weren't making us feel great about this living situation, but it's completely unexpected to be told only 5 months into this, that they aren't set up with insurance to actually employ drivers and good-bye.

I feel sad that I won't be able to say good bye to all the customers that have been so kind to me and who I've enjoyed seeing and catching up with every week. I am sad that no matter how hard we worked at this job and were self-reliant, easy tenants who made our own repairs, it's not good enough and it's beyond our control. What is said about us as an explanation, is beyond our control.

So, I wonder sheepishly... did I think I could control life by exuberantly deciding to be positive? Can we still? Can I call myself Miss Gimpy Doodles and will our cats pack the boxes? The cats and the chickens love it here. We have all really made this our home and settled in. It will be very, very sad to move.

Thank you to our local friends who have offered their help, our distant friends and family who listen and share ideas and We are also, again, open to any and all thoughts and ideas.