Business Partners, Married Couple

April 2015. The building of the firewood shack. It is made of reusable lumber and siding from a small greenhouse and potting table. It came apart and was moved over the past two days.

April 2015. The building of the firewood shack. It is made of reusable lumber and siding from a small greenhouse and potting table. It came apart and was moved over the past two days.

Family business. The day can start sour or sweet.

Sour. Yesterday. Witness:

Dispute about where the precious beach plum (Prunus maritima) seedlings should go. Their needs include some sun, moderate moisture, and protection from the cold. They are sown in potting medium in two heavy-duty black plastic flats about 12" by 16".

One business partner (BP1) suggests the bay window above the kitchen sink. The other business partner (BP2) is horrified. Well, let's not protect the guilty... BP2 = Rachel. BP1 = Jared.

BP2 (Rachel): "Not the bay window!"

BP1 (Jared): "There is always so much crap on that sill."

BP2 (R): "But that's my spot. My only spot in the whole house!"

BP1 (J): "It is not your spot. It always filled with broken things to be fixed, jars, vases, and other stuff!"

BP2 (R): Looks for broken bit of homemade refrigerator magnet that BP2 DID NOT put on the sill. "Well!" BP2 shoves dried flower arrangement in the compost and begins organizing the sill.

BP1 (J): "I don't have anywhere in the house either!"

BP2 (R): "Can we stop?" BP2 is not able to stop...

Discussion continues. [This conversation was not between to business partners for more than 10 seconds before it became a discussion between a husband and wife.]

Jared and Rachel agree that neither one has sovereign space in the house, I mean, home office. They also agree to put the beach plums in the south-facing window by the citrus trees.

The same day, the business partners (husband and wife) decide to move the "firewood shack", which always is woefully short of firewood.

They disagree: 1. On how to move it. 2. Whether to disassemble it or not.

They agree: 1. That multiple people are needed to move it as one unit. Likely six altogether. 2. That getting four or more of our husky friends in one place is unlikely.

Therefore, Rachel reiterates that the firewood shack should be at least partially disassembled and an attempt to move it should be made.

Jared states that Rachel is welcome to disassemble the firewood shack alone while Jared does something else. Jared adds that Rachel is also welcome to reassemble it. Rachel curses to herself as she nearly shreds the heads of a couple deck screws using the drill. Honor is at stake, so she retrieves the impact driver from the shed. It is insane (in a good way).

By sunset, only two screws hold the roof of the firewood shack on. All the floorboard are removed. The business partners are happy that the shack will be moved.


Sweet. Today. Witness:

Business partners start off the day as husband and wife (wink), so that later when the business partners move the partially disassembled, outrageously heavy, and awkward firewood shack by hand there is laughter.

The Jared assents to removing the remaining two screws holding the roof on while Rachel holds the roof in place. Rachel is assisted by a seven year old.

The snow provides a somewhat smooth and slippery surface to drag the firewood shack uphill about 50'. Mid-drag, Rachel comments, "One half genius, one half f/cking stupid." Laughter. Jared says he "feels like a burro. An ox." More laughter.

The team of oxen makes the 90 degree turn past the upper hoop house and continues uphill (because everything is uphill on this farm). Rachel begins to talk about writing, and Jared says, "No, I cannot possibly do this and think."

Jared and Rachel take a break. They adjust their grips to swing/slide/yank the shack into its resting place.

Rachel feels one of the struts repeatedly hammering the back of her heels. Rachel cannot walk fast enough while carrying the firewood shack. "You're takin' me out! You're takin' me out!" Rachel says while laughing.

Jared puts the shack down, and Rachel collapses in laughter. I certainly like sweet days better than sour ones.