PLANTING THE VINEYARD
FOR WANT OF WATER
PART 2 OF 4
Now, the first thing I noticed when I arrived, with a bewildered son, was that there should have been two big pallets of irrigation awaiting my arrival in the drive way by the big barn. They were not there. So I called the irrigation company who forwarded me to the trucker.
The trucker inissted that they had called me several times and that I had not answered. And since I had never returned their call, no drop off had been scheduled.
"Well, I'm here now. Tomorrow is fine." I said.
Nope, the dispatcher assured me, there were no more trucks to dispatch this late in the day, a friday, and they did not deliver on Saturday and Sunday. I tried desperately to explain, with passion and gusto, why my 1,000 plants would die without their irrigation, which he was now with holding.
"You should have called back. It's a little late now," he said with sarcasm. I asked what number they called, and he read off the house number in New York.
"That's not the number I gave on the reciept. I gave them my cell phone number. No one's here all week. I don't give this number out to anyone. How was I supposed to call back?"
"That's not my problem."
"So it's not your problem? Your company called a number I didn't give you. And it's not your problem that my irrigation's not here. And it's not your problem if my plants die."
There was a pausse. "Is there anything else you want?"
"Yeah, my damn irrigation."
"We can deliver it Monday."
"No one will be here monday, and my plants will be dead. So I won't need it. You can keep the irrigation!"
"Aything else?" he said without emotion.
"What if I pick it up from you?"
"Not my problem. I get paid either way. Gotta be here by 5 pm . We close Friday 5 pm sharp."
Suffice to say, after several faxes to their office, a few more conversations, wherein I used a few more choice words, a deal was struck. I found one of our good folks, Ben and friend of his, and they rode with a check in-hand in a flatbed up to Schenecthedy to pick up two pallets of irrigation.
In the meantime Dominique and my other son, Dylan, arrived. And Skip Dyer and his son were there with their equipment to start drilling. They brought two large augers. The drilling was started on the front block, as we had marked the remining holes in the back. We started running strings and tying them to stakes, and then running parallel stakes and lines. Then we began marking the dirt where the giant augers would bite into the ground. We stayed slightly ahead of the hole diging. They started the front 600, and we started to mark the back block of four hundred.
Ben came back with the irrigation. I celebrated his return with great gusto.
We ended up around 4pm with the whole front drilled and the whole back marked.
Dominique and I were surprised we had gotten even this far.
(end of day 1)
FOR WANT OF WATER
PART 2 OF 4
Now, the first thing I noticed when I arrived, with a bewildered son, was that there should have been two big pallets of irrigation awaiting my arrival in the drive way by the big barn. They were not there. So I called the irrigation company who forwarded me to the trucker.
The trucker inissted that they had called me several times and that I had not answered. And since I had never returned their call, no drop off had been scheduled.
"Well, I'm here now. Tomorrow is fine." I said.
Nope, the dispatcher assured me, there were no more trucks to dispatch this late in the day, a friday, and they did not deliver on Saturday and Sunday. I tried desperately to explain, with passion and gusto, why my 1,000 plants would die without their irrigation, which he was now with holding.
"You should have called back. It's a little late now," he said with sarcasm. I asked what number they called, and he read off the house number in New York.
"That's not the number I gave on the reciept. I gave them my cell phone number. No one's here all week. I don't give this number out to anyone. How was I supposed to call back?"
"That's not my problem."
"So it's not your problem? Your company called a number I didn't give you. And it's not your problem that my irrigation's not here. And it's not your problem if my plants die."
There was a pausse. "Is there anything else you want?"
"Yeah, my damn irrigation."
"We can deliver it Monday."
"No one will be here monday, and my plants will be dead. So I won't need it. You can keep the irrigation!"
"Aything else?" he said without emotion.
"What if I pick it up from you?"
"Not my problem. I get paid either way. Gotta be here by 5 pm . We close Friday 5 pm sharp."
Suffice to say, after several faxes to their office, a few more conversations, wherein I used a few more choice words, a deal was struck. I found one of our good folks, Ben and friend of his, and they rode with a check in-hand in a flatbed up to Schenecthedy to pick up two pallets of irrigation.
In the meantime Dominique and my other son, Dylan, arrived. And Skip Dyer and his son were there with their equipment to start drilling. They brought two large augers. The drilling was started on the front block, as we had marked the remining holes in the back. We started running strings and tying them to stakes, and then running parallel stakes and lines. Then we began marking the dirt where the giant augers would bite into the ground. We stayed slightly ahead of the hole diging. They started the front 600, and we started to mark the back block of four hundred.
Ben came back with the irrigation. I celebrated his return with great gusto.
We ended up around 4pm with the whole front drilled and the whole back marked.
Dominique and I were surprised we had gotten even this far.
(end of day 1)
posted by hudson-chathamwine at 8:43 PM
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