8.
Uncle Bob's Place
Uncle
Bob's house was of stone and mortar, surrounded on all sides by a mote. From an
ascetic point of view might be compared to a Scottish castle. There was
something about the sheer mass that brought the words "bastion of
protection." to mind. Uncle Bob
was a jovial middle aged balding man pleasantly rounded with a few more chins
than he needed. His wife had died in a head on, two years prior, and Uncle Bob
had been filling the gap in his life with rich pastries and a plentiful supply
of wine.
"Uncle Bob,
we're here." she said.
The door swung open and this automated voice invited us inside. The entry
hall floor was finished in polished alabaster, and the walls were lined in
mirrors. Uncle Bob was not in sight, but
"Make yourself at home folks," said Uncle Bob. "
"So tell me,
how do you like
"Beautiful,"
I said ", simply beautiful.
"Ah go on, ya
really like the old rock pile?"
"Sure do, Mr.
Greenfield.
"I am glad.
"Oh Uncle
Bob! How could you say such a thing?"
"So what you folks gona do with all them rocks."
"Well it's
not all rocks. From what I can see there's still plenty of good
bottomland."
"You mean
swampland."
"We should be
able to drain most of it."
"Can't touch
it my boy. That's wetland. The Feds would swoop down on you like pack of wild
mountain lions if you try. Backhoe
contractors who wish to keep their
license avoid all wetland work."
"How do you
know all this."
"I'm paid to
know these things, Bill; I'm a lawyer and a real estate broker."
"How would it
be if we drained it by hand?" I said.
"My aren't we
an ambitious lot. What century do you plan to complete this project?"
"Waite a
minute, Uncle Bob," said
"Oh
yes Mel. He don't have a license to loose. That boy will do anything for a buck.
He did several excavation jobs for me, but never finished one on schedule. He's
always breaking down."
"Time is not
a major concern. I think we'd like to meet this Melvin," I said.
"Sure, I'll put you in touch, but don't blame me when Mel gets his
collection of second hand parts stuck in your riverbed mud."
"We'll take
our chances. Right gang, "I said.
"Sounds fine
to
"You folks
hungry?" said Uncle Bob.
We all looked up
in grateful anticipation.
"What's for dinner? inquired Zinsky.
"You folks
like Spaghetti and mushrooms and chicken?" said Uncle Bob.
The heads started
bobbing, and Uncle Bob looked up at
"Show your friends where they can get cleaned up and change into dry
clothes," he said.
We each had time to take a relaxing hot shower and change into some
welcome dry close before dinner. Zinsky and Julian were helping
"Nice to see the little women busy in the kitchen hay Bill,"
said Mike.
"Don't worry
boys," said
"Of
course," I said, recalling the time, more then a decade prior, when I put
dish to soap on a greasy fork.
There was fresh celery, carrot spears, mounds of spaghetti, home made
sauce, roasted chicken and garlic bread. Zinsky didn't put her fork down for the
first ten minutes. I filled Uncle Bob in on our grand plans for a self
sufficient colony capable of meeting and exceeding the basic human needs of its
members. I talked about sustained yield productivity and a social system which
allowed everyone the opportunity to
become an integral part of their own social evolution.
"Every one will feel a sense of belonging. The elderly will not be
"put out to pasture". We
have qualified teachers who will be the educators our children.... And when they
can no longer care for our children our children will care for them. We will all
care for them. We will all care for each other. We will have social harmony and
a sense of belonging and direction in our lives. Eventually we hope the idea of
a functioning utopian community will catch on and spread like mushrooms across
the face of the planet."
"Hold on.
Hold on, Professor Cremfield," said Julian "I have this picture of
myself limping across this meadow, towards a duck pond, with a child in each
hand. It's a fine image, and I don't have any problem with it, but... but...
What are we going to do tomorrow?"
"Good
question, Julian. I figured we could get started on the windmill tomorrow. We're
going to need electricity, might as well generate our own."
"Come back to
earth Bill. We need shelter.
"You're
welcome to sleep here tonight," said Uncle Bob.
"Thanks,
Uncle Bob, You've been more than generous with your hospitality."
"So what do
you suggest, Julian? "I said
"I suggest we build
a shelter first."
"Can we do
that?"
"Sure, why
not?"
"How long
will it take?"
"That depends
on what we want, how much we're willing to spend, and how far we have to travel
to get the materials."
"What can you
do with $5,000 and a week?"
Julian took out a
sketch pad and drew a rectangle. Inside this she drew some boxes and lines and a
few circles. In less than one minute she had completed an architectural concept
for our first community shelter and had presented it for approval. The proposed
rectangle was 16'X64'. It had four bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen, a living
room, a place for a wood stove, and an entire wall of south facing windows.
"What are all these windows for?" I asked Julian.
"One thing we have in abundance is sunshine, Bill. Might as well
take advantage. Besides on a sunny day think of all the heat we'll save."
"What about
the evenings."
"At night
we'll have to be content with watching the stars."
"I like
it." said Zinsky.
"All in
favor." I said.
"Waite a
minute," said Ned, "Is this how were going to live?"
"Wussa--madder--you
Neddy boy don't-a-you lika my house?" said Julian.
"I didn't
know you were Italian."
"I'm
not."
"Oh! Actually
your house is fine but don't you think we should attach a wood shed on the north
side."
"Like
this." Julian sketched a little rectangle on the north side.
"That's
better."
"All in
favor," I said again.
Mike raised his
hand in protest. "I don't know, Bill, I think we can do better than
this."
"Yes we can, but expediance and cost are a prime concern right now.
This is only the first of many structures, Mike. We're not going to live out our
lives in this community shead."
"I like it," said Zinsky again.
"All in
favor."
Everyone raised
their hands including Uncle Bob.
"Unanimous decision
on our first structure. Way to go colony." I said.
9. THE LONG
HOUSE
The week that followed was not so pretty. Julian took over. She put Ned
to work with a pick ax, and then started firing orders at Mike.
"Drive that stake here," Said Julian
"Too much
clay, said Mike.
"That's OK
we'll dig it out later."
"No way!
You can dig it anytime you want by yourself. I quit."
"Do you have
problem with authority figures, Mr. Barns."
"Not all
authority figures, just you, Great Exalted One."
Julian put a tape
measure in her pocket, placed one hand on the side of her hip, and looked Mike
straight in the eye. Just than Ned came over and smiled.
"Going at it
again, hey?" He said.
That's when I stepped between them and felt their breath .. hot like
enraged bulls. Mike put down a sledge hammer and
looked up. Julian 's eyes were red, and her long dark hair hung
disheveled in the April wind..... and Ned. Ned was laughing.
"Put a lid on it Ned," I said. "What's going on?"
"Ask the
engineer. She's the one with all the answers."
"Julian,
whats the matter?" I said.
"Nothing,
except that Mike is being very uncooperative."
"Well, if
being uncooperative means building this bread box on this clay bed flood plain
than call me Mr. Uncooperative.
"We'll put
down footings. It will be fine," said Julian.
"It won't
last a year. Ask
"Oh yeah,
than how come we're not under water right now with all that rain."
"A few weeks
ago you would have been, when the ice melted up on the mountain. Just ask
"OK," I
said ",assuming that you and Nancy are correct what do we do
now?"
"How about
someplace that sheds water water like that mound on the clearing."
"But that's too far from where we park."
"So we'll pave a little paradise and put up a parking lot."
"Is that OK
with everyone." I said.
"I suppose,
" said Julian.
"I'm not so
sure", said Mike. "I still think we can do better than this long
house."
"Yes, but I'm not so
sure now."
"Listen Mike
and Julian, I won't always be around to help resolve these conflicts. You folks
are going to have to speak up and listen to each other . We're all in this
together. Julian, did you know that Mike has over ten years experience in
construction."
"Well
no!", said Julian.
"OK that's my fault.
Nancy I'd like you to get a hold of your friend Mel and see if you can get him
over here soon so we can can get started with the footing. I'd also like you to
pick up some supplies so we can build a temporary shelter. Any Ideas gang?"
"Well we sure could use a chain saw if we're going to do some
clearing" said Ned.
"Toilet
paper would be good." said Zinsky.
" How
about a tarp to build a temporary shelter", said Mike.
" Now
you're talking, somebody write this down." I said.
"Well if
we have to resort to living in a tent we'll need some nylon cord", said
Julia.
"Now
we're getting somewhere. What do you think of this squabble between Mike and
Julia?"
"Well I
sensed a certain tension in Mike from the time we ignored his concerns back at
Bob's place. We all have special talents but I think we need to slow down
sometimes and listen to each other. This is really why we're here. A shelter can
wait. If we need a place to stay I'm sure Nancy's Uncle will take us in as long
as we need him. As for me I would like nothing more than a flush toilet and a
hot shower, but these creature comforts will have no value if we loose respect
for each other. Mike and Julia understand the construction process better than
the rest of us so it would be natural to trust their judgment when it comes to
the design and construction details for our immediate lodging, but I think we
should all have a say in what we feel is important. Bill what do you think is
important."
"a roof
over our heads with plenty of screens would be good. I was told that the
mosquetoes can get nasty near a swamp."
"Ned?" " a wood stove and a good stash of wood to keep us warm in
the winter."
"Julian?" "a solid house we can depend on with at least 10
bedrooms."
"Nancy?" "As long as my room has a view of Moose mountain I'll be
happy."
"Mike?" "I was thinking of using the entire south facing roof to
collect heat. I figure the North facing roof could later be used to mount PV
panels when we can afford them."
"Solar
applications will be too expensive I think we should stick to the original one
floor long house idea."
"Sounds like we have some house plans to consider. All in favor of letting Julian and Mike alone to hash out a house plan raise their hands."
All hands were up high. Nancy, Ned and Zinsky headed out together in the jeep to commandeer the services of Mel and to pick up hardware supplies and food.
"Perhaps you and Mike should switch rolls for awhile, and see how it
goes."
Mike's eyes caugth the intensity of the
"Your attention please ladies and fagots your new commanding officer
has just arrived. Gather round. Gather round.
Look alive. Snap to folks. We've got a shead to build. Keep your noses
clean and your picks a swing'nand there will be no problem. Is that clear."
He shouted.
"Yes Sir!" Said Ned with a silly smile still on his face.
"Wipe that smile off, Private," he said.
"Yes Sir!" Said Ned... brushing his face clean.
"I don't ever want to see that smile again. Do you understand that,
private?"
"Yes Sir!"
"
"Yes Sir!" said Ned. He picked up a shove and pic and began
digging. We all watched with amazement, and were afraid to say anything. Mike
was very serious. Mike picked down about four feet into the hard clay.
"Now berry that smile, Soldier," said Mike.
Mike pushed dirt back into the hole and stood at attention. We were all
standing there playing soldier at least we hoped we were playing soldier. Mike
was taller than I had ever seen him.
"Now we're going to build a little shead on the mound folks. Is that
OK with you?"
Ned and Nancy and I said "Yes Sir!" in a loud audable tone, but
Julian mumbled something that Mike found incoherent. He turned to Julian."
"Is that OK with you, Julian? He said.
"I guess," she said.
"I don't hear you soldier?"
"Yes Sir!" She felt her lips move and herd the sounds, but
surely the voice was not hers.
"Again."
"Yes Sir!" There was that voice again... louder, but somehow
not hers.
"Glad to see we're all in agreement Soldiers," he said ",
Right face. Forward. March. Hip two, three. Hip two, three. Hip two, three....
The march was straight ahead. Puddles, stumps, bushes and rocks were not
obstacles. The only obstacles were in the narrow corridors of stubborn pride.
Our colony was now off on another path unbounded by the constraints of
consequence... caught up in the rapture of childhood play. Where this path would
lead seemed less important than the journey. Mike relinquished command at the
mound. He said it was a strain on his voice...
The
joy of community and self expression had replaced my guilt at having abandoned a
conventional, safe, predictable lifestyle. The process of building a shed became
our focal point. Zinsky had a way of smacking Mike's butt every time he bent
down to pick up a cement block. Our methods were primitive and unstructured, but
our task was completed five hours before the original deadline. Zinsky had the
opportunity to spend one night in the splendid shed before returning to
LOG
OFF
Bill's
download pulled me into a virtual reality far from my suburban roots. I wanted
to stay on line, but those sad eyes of mine grew heavy and that soft pillow with
the deep hole in the center called me. The hall clock chimed twice and my Dell
monitor popped into darkness and I fell into a deep sleep.
There
was a squeal of subway brakes, and the moldy smell of soil, wet steel and the
bump in the tunnel. There was a red haired punier with a Mohawk, and a slumped,
sagging, careworn bag lady hung low protecting new found treasures....
The
alarm clock clicked... Howard Stern was doing his Bill Clinton saxophone début
for a Delaware County Trump Casino... And the day began.
Three
hopefuls were waiting patiently on cold oak chairs for a chance at a FHA-PAM.
(Federal
Housing Authority Per Approved Loan)
"Fresh
coffee anyone?" I announced.
The
tall blond with freckles wearing a low cut flower dress said: "No
thank's Mr. Cativan." The others shook and starred with a blank
expression.
"Very
well than, who's first?"
The
blond rose up full hight, towering four inches above my newly fluffed blow dry.
"Have
a seat , and what is your name?" I said.
"Marleen
Yazer"
"How
may I be of service, Marleen?" My
voice cracked and my ankles stretched to new hights.
Her
deep red lips sparkled under the newly installed florescent. "I want to buy
a house," she said. Objectivity
and professionalism were on the wane. I felt them float
up and disipate into the cieling.
A
stack of loan application forms waited on the corner of the desk, but they
seemed too far for me to reach.
"Will
the house be for you alone?", I said.
"No,
Harold, my fiancee, will be in on it."
A
cold breeze creept across the polished marble floor of the bank, but her smile
was too warm and inviting to give up on.
"How
much of a loan are we talking about?"
"A
few hundred thousand would be nice", she said.
"And
what kind of carriers will the EAB depend
for payment."
"Oh
I'm a waitress at the Garden City Hotell, and make big tips.
"I'm
sure you do. How about Harold?"
"Oh
Harold is great. You should meet him. He's a machinest you know. Someday he
expects to have his own shop and make extrusion equiptment for the growing
recycling industries."
"That's
very nice, and what gross income can we expect from you folks."
"Forty
thousand per year, at least.
"And
the down payment?"
"A
few months from now I expect will be rolling in it. Ten thousand will be no
problem."
"No
problem for whom", I thought.
"Marjory
It's been wonderful talking with you, and I'm looking forward to meeting with
you and Harold when the application is filled out."
I
stood up, and handed her the EAB form HOL-B. A drop of warm salt water pooled in
the corner of my right eye as I watched her walk past the security gard.
I'd never see her again and If I
were to lay eyes upon her it would
be to reject her loan application. Perhaps we'd meet at the GC Hotel. Ah the
fanticies of life. How could I live without them.
By
"People
are incapable of cooperating for the mutual benefit of all." I'd explaine.
We are not ants. We're pitiful frightened creatures concerned only with
petty compforts and petty power."
Bill
responded thus:
Dear
Johnny,
Nice
to hear from you. I understand exactly what your saying and your right. People
are selfish, inconsiderate and petty, but they are also curious, thoughtfull and
generous. It all depends on the people and their environment. If you truely feel
that the AUNT FARM is a fruitless
endever you woulden't waste time writing me.
I think you still have that childlike curiosity you had on the first day
we met at the
If
communal interaction makes you feel uncompfortable how'd you like to try
a business arrangement? We could use
a salesman to find a market for our products.
ANTMAN...
I
had to laugh when I read Biills proposal. There was this vision of a laundry bag
full of tie die shirts and a collection of odd smelling oils. I declined by
thanking Bill for the offer. How could I possibly leave this easy banker's life
for an uncertain future on
LOG
ON
Zinsky
was buisy at the University recruting new members and our tiny group was at work
forming what we hoped would be the nucleus of a new harmonous social order. Our
guiding hand would be different from Adam Smits "Competition".
Hopefully the fuel used to nurture our AUNT FARM
would come from a more reliable source than greed.
It would be the fuel that recognizes the value of the individual. It
would be the boundless fuel of nature working in harmony with the universe. It
would be an ordered symbiotic relationship dedicated to the value, growth and
benifit of all.
But
how ???? Communism and comunes had
failed. How would this be any different?
It
would be different because it's source of energy would be pure. An understanding
of the laws of nature and the laws of human psychology would lay the foundations
of implicit and explicit norms of behaviour. The deliterious effects of monopoly
would be understood and delt with. The struggle of AUNT FARM would be the
strugle of family. Coowners of the community would naturally
find joy in helping the community grow in the same manner that family
members benifit and find joy in the spirit of cooperation.
SELF
SUFFICIENCY
I
had always felt that AUNT FARM would
be a sort of ongoing experimental comunity. As the community
experienced success it would grow and become a viable alternative to the
present form of wasteful, aimless socialism.
There are so many beautiful ideas and ideals to explore, but
a stable environment is necessary to bring them into fruition. Satisfying
the basic human requirements of food and shelter are important, but we
deserve more than the drudgery of competition to fill the void in our fragile
lives. We need to understand and be in harmony with the universe and feel that
we are part of one large family. There is more to a viable comunity than self
sufficiency, but it's a start.
The
Windmill /Well
The
amenities of the civilized world beconed us from afar like some great white
whale in Herman Melville's time. We missed the convenience of indoor plumbing,
the kitchen sink and especially the white porclan flush toilet. Oh the outdoor
facility was managable, and we had a plentiful supply of ashes from the wood
stove to keep the odors in check, but that simple flush would make life so much
easier for us. We had a wonderful hand dug well that supplied us with the finest
water anyone could hope for, but no one enjoyed bucket duty and no one looked
forward to the arduous task of bucket
bathing. We needed a reliable source of continuously flowing water. Moose
mountain had a number of springs, however they would only flow after a heavy
rain. A reliable pumping system and an elevated thousand gallon holding tank
were in order.
Melvin
Rock suggested we dig out another well in the flat land where the wind was
steady and strong. There we could erect a wind powered pump station adajacent to
the well. Michael and Ned collected and washed stones as Melvin scraped up the
earth with his backhoe. Julian and I collected brook stones and carted them over
to the site of the new well. By
"Won't
need no cement." said Ned , and, Michale agreed.
We
talked about the posibilities of cave-in and contamination and soon decided to
play it safe. Ned did'nt seen offended by the decission as a matter of fact he
suggested we rent a sump pump and a generator.
"What
do we need them for?" , I asked.
"How
you expect us to lay stone and cement under six feet of water?"
"Good
point." I agreed. "So who's going to town."
"We'll
go, Boss." said Michael.
"I'm
not your Boss, Mike. We're all in this together. I have confidance that our best
solution we'll reflect the concerns of all."
"Whatever
you say, Boss." he said.
Melvin
offered his 1975 ford pickup to Mike
and Ned, but he did so with a warning.
"Take
it easy on the brakes boys." he said.
I
expressed my concerns, and they both listened carefully and even waved as they
bounced down the dusty path toward the highway.
I
worry a lot, perhaps too much, or perhaps that's my job, the job of a mother
hen. The hours rolled by and there was no sign or sound of Melvin's rusty
pickup. Julian and I continued to ammas a handsom pile of brook stone, and Mel
hit a good pool of water at twelve feet.
"I've
gone as deep as I dare." he said.
"The
well must go deeper." said Julian.
"Than
we'll have to do it by hand." I said.
"You're
not getting me down there, Bill." she said. "The walls of this hole
are starting to cave in already. After the first eight feet there's nothing but
loose sand."
"So
what do we do now?" I asked.
"We
need to shore up the sides with some timbers and get some tile."
"What
do you mean tile?"
"I
mean interlocking concrete cylindres three feet in diameter and about two feet
long."
"Oh!
than what do we do with these stones. We can use the stones to finish off the
well above ground.
Mel
just watched us banter and waited for instructions.
"What
next folks," he said.
"We're
going to need a trench to and up the side of
"Why
not just erect a tower right here?" said Mel.
"We
thought of that, but Julian and I were concerned with the cost and also the
problems of freezing."
"Yar.
Guess she might freeze up a bit when we get them crispy days in February.
So wat ya wana do folks."
"You
could start a trench towards Moose mountain Mel. Dam I should have told Michael
to pick up some poly pipe.Oh well, we don't have pipe ,but you could still dig a
trench, Mel. Julie and I will shore up the well in the meantime."
Mel
was an artist with the old John Deer. It was hard not to watch him as we worked
to shore up the well. He pressed the front bucket just hard enough, then let
down the leg stabilizers. The backhoe stretched within four feet of the well. He
curled the two foot scoop and
scraped out a long trench a foot deep. The legs sunk a bit and the old John Deer
lurched, and squealed. The earth was moving. A mound of sand and stone were
dumped unceremoniously to one side. Again and again he scraped and filled the
air with those shrill sounds like fingernails scraping slate.
I was transfixed with mouth agape and hands akimbo for a time until
Julian placed her mud encrusted hands on my sun burnt neck.
Just
then Ned and Mike pulled up in Mel's rusty pickup. Mike jumped out and walked
toward the well hole.
"Ready
for the cement boss?"
"Julie
has a better idea, Mike, she'd like to tile the well. What do you think?
"Sounds
high class to me boss. Can we afford it?
"Well
Mike, a reliable source of water is esential. I think it time to make a little
investment. How many tile do you think we need Julie?'
"I'd
say sixteen feet down with a four foot cap would do, so we need ten tile."
"How
much do you think that would run, Mike?"
"At
$50 a pop it'll set us back $500."
Mel,
who'd been ease dropping let his bucket down. Don't mean to bud in folks but it
might run you a bit more. The nearest concrete supply is in Thompsonville about
fifty miles due north and them boys charge for delivery."
"Could
you pick them up for us Mel?"
"Them
concrete collers weigh about 200lb each. It would take me a week to transport
them Mr. Cremfield."
"OK
than we'll call in a delivery. Is there anything else we should be getting? Mike
did you rent the generator and pump?
"Well,
not exactly Boss."
"How
come Mike?"
"There
are no rentals, boss. I bought them."
I
shuttered a bit, but was able to restrain my disapproval.
"Don't
worry boss", said Mike, "We'll make good use of these
workhorses."
The
enthusiasm of Mike was encouraging,
and I was determined to postpone my concerns over our limited
budget. Derogatory remarks
are like rain on a newly kindled camp fire. My main function here I felt was to
add fuel rather than douse the delicate flame we have all been fortunate enough
to kindle.
"No
thanks folks." he said, I got my own place be it oh so humble."
With
that he bid us good night. His
faithful old Chevy bumped and sputtered a few times before mellowing out into a
uniform state of reliable combustion. The old truck clanked down the dusty path
that led to the highway. An hour elapsed before we heard a knock on our hand
made front door and were greeted by his careworn face.
"Does
that offer for lodging still stand?", he said.
"Of
course Mel. What made you change your mind?"
"Call
it fate if you like, but my old Chevy gave out 'bout a mile down the highway in
a ditch near the four corner intersection."
"Did
you run out of gas?"
"Got
plenty of gas. She runs just fine. It's stoppen er where I have the problem. Ya
might say I ran out of brake."
The
night sky was clear. The stars were like sharp crystals. In the dimness we could
still see each others breath chugging down this lost and lonely highway on a
mission of salvage. Julie offered to drive but Ned and Mike and I were in a
silly mood. At the four corners we all pushed together and had the truck on the
road within minutes. Mel sat in his pickup with Julie while Mike and Ned rode in
the back ready to drag the rust heap to a stop if necessary. The back drum and
front disk brakes were just a squeaky memory with scores beyond the legal
tolerance.
I
asked: "How can you drive like this?"
"It's
not easy?"
"Why
not fix the problem, Mel?"
"Ya
mean get new wheels and brakeshoes and brakedrums and disks and rotors."
"Exactly,"
I said.
"Not
worth it."
"Then
why not get another vehical?"
"Money,
Honey. " he said.
"It's
a vicious cycle don't ya think Mel?"
"What's
that?"
"You
know money, work, food, sleep and all the rest of it. Do you feel like a dog
chasing his tail?"
"Never
figured myself like a dog though some folks say I'm just spinnin' my
wheels."
"Same
thing Mel.”
The
sky was ink dark and a heavy cold fog rolled off the mountain when we pulled up
to the Long House at the foot of
"Mel,"
I said, It's late. You'll only have about an hour to flop into youir shack on
"Well
if you insist Professor Cremfield. Ya know I like workin' for you folk, but I
don't expect me ta become a member of this commie pinko clan.
In
the morning Ned wipped up a batch of his famous sourdough pancakes. I could here
them sputtering in the pan and smell the cooking batter from the far end of the
Long House before Ned slammed the breakfast gong. At the table Mike, Julian, Ned
and I stuffed it in, but Mel just picked a little.
"You
folks got coffee?"
"Coffee's
no good for ya Mel, we have postum if ya like."
He
took a sip and spit it out.
"How
can you drink this mud? It tastes like burnt toast."
"That's
right, it's a toasted grain, or a malt" I said, "I miss the taste of
coffee too Mel , but you know toasted legumes contain carcinogens so we don't
stock them."
"I'm
sure you're right. but I sure could use a good stiff cup a black coffee 'bout
now.
Mel
spent most of the day developing a path up the side of
Julian
and Mike went into town to pick up a few roters and a set of brake drums for
Mel's pick up.
Mike
wasn't sure which Allen nut held the rotor in place, but he soon learned with Julian's
help. Before
"How
much I owe ya", he said.
"No
charge", said Julian, "Just keep up the fine work."
"Mel,"
I said, "We all appreciate the work you're doing and have lots more for
you, but I don't think we’ll be able to afford you much longer at $30/hr. We
had hoped that you would become a member of our community, but we will
understand if this is imposible.
“Well
thaaar Miss Julian I like you folks just fine, but the thought of becoming a
commie goes against my grain.”
“What
makes you think we’re communists?”
“Well
this is a commune, right?”
“Yes
I guess you could call it a community of people working towards a sustainable
lifestyle”
“OK
than yaar a commie. My pa'd crawl out his pine box iffin I were to hook up with
your tribe.”
WHAT
WILL HAPPEN NEXT?
WILL MEL BECOME A MEMBER OF THE COMMUNE?
WHY IS MEL SO RELUCTANT TO JOIN?
WOULD IT BE A MISTAKE TO ALLOW MEL TO JOIN?
Stop in from time to time. Keep tabs on the Aunt Farm.
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