The Farm At Maple Hollow - 28. Chapter 28

To me the early days of summer has become one of my favorite times of the year, each new day as we emerged from the mercurial spring season, are natures reminder of longer, warmer days ahead. It was as if nature was gifting us for surviving another New England winter. We’d be celebrating a couple of birthdays in another week, Sam’s, and mine, just two days apart. It had been one of those rare June days, I thought, as I sat on the porch reflecting on the day’s activities as I waited for Pietro to finish getting ready for his afternoon Babe Ruth League baseball game.

It had been at the suggestion of his Little League baseball coach that he continue playing to further develop his game. He had a lively bat and was a vacuum cleaner at third base. He had on occasion stepped in a pitched as a lefty, something his coaches wanted to see more of. Joining me on the porch as I waited were Ethan and Earl. Earl was the only other person other than myself that truly enjoyed the game. I could hear Sam rumbling around in the kitchen, making sure his Grandmother Marge was packing all the snacks and drinks we would need. I laughed as the sounds of the fridge door kept opening and closing, accompanied by the music the slamming of the pantry cabinets made as different items were added to the picnic basket we would be taking.

Sam had hit a growth spurt; he had shot up a couple of inches, his voice had deepened and would occasionally crack, depending on how excited he was. If I had thought the boy could eat before, I was sadly mistaken, he was becoming a bottomless pit. Suddenly, there wasn’t an issue with leftover food after supper. More often than not, those leftovers that nominally could be found in the fridge, seemed to magically disappear. Earl, laughing along side of me wanted to know if I would wager on who would appear first, the picnic basket or Pietro.

It turned out that we were both wrong, Luke Swenson had stepped out to as if we minded if he joined us. It seemed that he and Trind were going out a bit later and Luke like me, truly enjoyed the game. He had a decent high school career as a center fielder and had been known to play in a few pick-up games. Hiring Luke was one of the best decisions we had made, he was a natural. He stepped in and made Earl’s and everyone else’s life just that much easier. He confirmed for us and made the decision to approach the Janssens, so much easier about purchasing their adjoining farmstead.

They, like many others had seen the hand writing on the wall. Family farming in New England was struggling, facing stiff competition from the larger corporate, industrial farming behemoths. We knew and Luke agreed with us, that there were markets we could thrive in on a much smaller scale. It would mean that our approach would have to change, we had a new paradigm that would allow us to remain as we were and expand.

We had been in deep discussions concerning the farm and expansion as we sat in the stands. It was in the top of the third inning when our attention was focused back on the game. Mike Newlin, the starting pitcher for the Hutchinson Red Sox let out an anguished cry as the ball sprang off the bat of the batter he was facing and connected solidly with his ribcage. He went down in a heap and we watched helplessly as coaches and the local EMT’s rushed the mound.

Once the dust had settled, Mike was able to walk off the field, a little worse for the wear and tear, he was off to the health center for x rays on his ribs, as word passed quickly through the stands that it was only a precaution. What we hadn’t noticed was Pietro warming up to take Mike’s place. Once the game resumed, Pietro sent the side down in order. Pietro’s stuff was electric that afternoon. Other than a couple of weak infield hits and a few pop ups, his pitching silenced the other team’s bats and only faced the minimum number of batters, it was three batters up and three batters down and thank you mam. The final score was four runs to two with two of the winning runs batted in by Pietro as he had a double and a couple of singles!

Surprisingly when the game ended, there was a bit more food left over. It seemed that our appetites took a back seat to Pietro’s game. Now that it was over and while we waited for Pietro, that picnic basket barely survived the onslaught. I think it was Earl’s suggestion but the decision was made that a trip to the ice cream parlor was in order to properly celebrate Pietro’s win.

Everyone was in the mood to celebrate, there was much chatter and good-natured ribbing as we tucked into our various ice cream concoction’s. There were several excited replays of the game’s highlights and everyone’s favorite moments. For Pietro, it was when he faced the top of the order for the other team. The leadoff batter was a Punch and Judy hitter, able to slap a singles hit to just any part of the infield. He couldn’t hit for power but was a disruptive threat any time he reached base with his ability to steal second base almost at will. Pietro threw him nothing but junk and kept him off balance. He never saw the fastballs high and tight, just inside the strike zone, pushing him back off the plate.

The second batter in the order could simply hit just about anything inside or outside the strike zone, what he couldn’t his were the fastballs Pietro blazed by him, he went down swinging each time up. The third batter, the clean-up hitter, was leading the league in batting average, having a lusty 464 batting average. The cardinal rule when facing him was, if there were men on base, to walk him. His day ended with a weak pop-up and a couple of weak infield hits to second base or the shortstop and was easily thrown out at first base. It set the tone for the rest of the game and as we would find out, Pietro’s days at third base were coming to an end. Soon he would be inserted in the starting rotation.

We weren’t the only ones celebrating that late afternoon, several teammates and their families stopped by the ice cream parlor as well. We were a bit longer than expected and the supper hour was drawing near, Earl had the good sense to use the ice cream parlor phone and let Marge know that we would swing by Lorenzo’s restaurant to pick up some subs, salads, and a couple of pizzas for our supper. As we were leaving Lorenzo’s we bumped into Mr. Janssen and his wife, after some small talk and pleasantries, he asked Ethan and I if we were serious about purchasing his place. We affirmed our intentions to do so, noting that we would need to swing by to walk the property, take a quick inventory as to what was staying and the general conditions of the barn and outbuildings.

Luke had already taken off with Trind and were sure he would want to be a part of our walkthrough. With that in mind we agreed to meet in the morning two days from now. Thanking him for the chance to have first look, we parted ways and went home with a bit more food than when we left. Ethan and I were both excited to go over and look at the Janssen’s place. It had always been a showplace and a sterling example of what the quintessential New England farm should look like.

Mr. Janssen was a bit older than Earl and Marge, if I had to guess, I’d say about ten years or so. He, like many other farmers, had seen the writing on the wall and his two sons had no desire for that sort of life. He had over the past several years, downsized the dairy operation. He had kept a good number of beef cattle for market, hiring help as needed. His pasture lands were kept mown and kept the encroaching woods back. He would selectively log the hillier portions of the property.

His logging operation was a sight to see. He sold cordwood along with older growth hardwood for milling into lumber. To say he was fussy with his logging would be mild. He’d walk the woods selecting the next set of trees to cull and have at it. The difference in his operation was he wouldn’t use machinery to haul his logs. He did all the moving of the cut logs with a team of Belgium draft horses.

They were certainly a sight to see, every Fourth of July he would parade them, and in the fall, they always made an appearance at the annual harvest fair at the fairgrounds. Earl always got a hoot when Mr. Janssen would enter the draft horses in several of the competitions. To watch his team of four, enter the tractors pull was a sight to see, many a year he’d put several of his fellow farmers to shame as invariably, he would bring home a ribbon. All told he had six of the mammoth horses, all of them standing at least sixteen hands high, the largest, Rufus nearly topped out at eighteen hands!

Later that night as I lay in bed with Ethan, he could tell I was miles away, lost in deep thought. I had come to a decision internally about the Janssen’s farm. If we could combine his four-hundred-eighty-five acres with ours, we could have the expansion we needed to diversify our operations. I could see Luke and his future bride living in that farmhouse and helping to manage both farms till we were fully up to speed. If we grew and expanded as I thought we would, Luke would prove to be an invaluable asset.

What I would be insistent on was not selling any portion of either property for housing or other development. What we had and could add to, was a rare opportunity for us. I could visualize the various, separate income producing markets we could tap into, as I was ‘traveling’ down the future I could envision. If we could scale the various operations to fit the different markets, we could have a solid base. What I wasn’t counting on was the rustling under the blankets.

Struggling to not to lose focus proved to be impossible as Ethan orally ministered to the wayward, no longer recalcitrant parts of me, eagerly buying the salvation being offered in the sermon that evening. My soul was being called elsewhere that warm summers eve. I watched the breezes gently wafting the curtains that hung limply aside the bedroom windows. As the tender caress of the evening air washed over me, I felt as if I was be transported astride the gentle currents as they spoke to me. When the clouds obscuring the pale light of the early summers moon parted, allowing the silvery light to illuminate the room, the dust motes danced as if on fairy wings.

Tender, feathery touches ignited goosebumps as fingertips traced and defined the contours of my body, as I became lost in my insensibility. Infinitesimal sparks ignited where the synaptic gaps joined my nerve endings, igniting a greater conflagration, one I was powerless to control as I felt the bed shift slightly. I cried out at the loss of our connection; the temporary loss of the warmth restored as Ethan lay between my parted legs.

Rent insensible as the tremors quaked, coursing like lightning throughout my body, I could only hope to ride out the impending storm alongside Ethan, as the fury around our connection intensified. The distance between us disappeared as he slid his forearms under my shoulders. Our flesh welded us together, solidified the connection of us as one. Our bodies telegraphed our needs as we complemented each other as we rode the inevitable wave of finality.

~~~

I woke early that next morning, scurried through my morning ablutions and chores and Ethan found me at the breakfast table with the account books for the farm and our investments. It had taken some time and an abuse of our calculator, but I believed our finances could handle the purchase of the Janssen’s farm. I had to turn away more than one real estate investor sans developer who had eyed the property and knew the real values of land in our area.

The tricky part of our purchase was that Mr. Janssen had over the years invested wisely and most of the income from his operations were plowed back into the farm. His farm, River’s Edge was a showplace and would only command top dollar. Our only advantage was we wanted to continue and expand his operation, it was my belief that in that we had no one competing against us as farmers. What we would be competing against, were those who saw values in the sale of the different components and developing the land into acres of suburban trac homes.

If Mr. Janssen chose to go that route, we simply could not afford the purchase, it would take every dollar we had or could lay our hands on and create the need to mortgage what we had. With Maple Hollow free and clear of debt, it was a contemplation we simply wouldn’t and couldn’t consider. Together we crunched the numbers, were confident in what we could afford and offer. As we were wrapping up our conversation the munchkins made a hungry appearance in the kitchen. Both Sam and Pietro wrapped Marge up in a hug and with pleading, never have been fed, hungry eyes, asked what was for breakfast.

I reminded the boys we needed to go out to the cabin later this morning, we had offered to ferry the weeks supplies for our archeological team. While it was early days we weren’t expecting much. We had encouraged them to take a gander down by the lower fields where Earl had found so many arrowheads and other such stuff over the years.

Well, you would have thought we had lit a fire under the two of them, what was placed in front of them was inhaled and as they were ready to depart from the table, I reminded them to take a quick shower as Sam complained he could wash once he was out at the cabin. I had to remind him to remember underwear as we were going grocery shopping before going out to the cabin.

As I think about it, I wasn’t sure it, despite the best of intentions, that it was the best idea I ever had bringing Sam and Pietro along while I did the week’s shopping. I’m not sure distracting is the best word to use when describing the attempted disorder as we walked the aisles, I could only thank god that the two of them had some food in them before we had left the house. Now I fully understood why it was a chore my mother preferred doing alone and at the door of the store, as they opened for the morning!

Once we were ready to check out, I left the fully laden carts with Ethan and the boys using the excuse that the car needed gas and I would be across the parking lot filling her up, and would meet them as they exited the store. With some careful planning and the placement of the groceries and bags of ice in the coolers we were finally ready and our carefully planned shopping budget in tatters.

Putting the groceries we needed for the farm away, and packing what was needed for the girls, along with our needs, took much less time as two very motivated rapscallions saw to the division of goods with minor assistance from us. In short order the first trip with the wheelbarrow down to the dock was completed and we were hastened along with the remainder. While we kept assorted dry goods stocked, they would from time to time need replenishing. What we needed that was subject to spoiling was carefully packed on ice in our large cooler.

Once we were over, Sam and Pietro disappeared with the girls supplies for the week giving Ethan and I time to have a further discussion concerning the possible purchase of River View farm. We both thought our numbers were solid and if we could find the time this afternoon, have a quick discussion with Earl as to his thoughts.

As we finished our contemplations, we decided to walk up to see how the archeological dig was commencing, suddenly, it was far too quiet here at the cabin. Walking up to where they were working, I noticed that they had carefully laid out several grids denoting areas of possible interest. In addition, they had uncovered more of the top of the ledge and were carefully brushing dirt away from several places.

Pam stood up to greet me encouraging the gang to keep at it. Ethan asked what they were looking for and the best Pam could tell us was that they had found some, a number of grooves that may have been inscribed into the face of the flat ledge surface. While she could not be sure, they would need to uncover more of the surface, a wider area to better understand just what they were looking at.

She reminded us that what we were looking at, may just the effect of glacial movement. In archeology, often what was found and thought to be of some importance, were more than not, red herrings or wild goose chases to be more precise.

Taking our leave, we asked if Sam or Pietro were in the way or underfoot, earning the two of us a couple of dirty looks and some chuckles from the girls. As we made our way back down to the cabin Sam and Pietro tossed a couple of good-humored barbs our way along with a couple of dirt clumps. For us it was a golden opportunity to follow up on our concerns around our fiscal position and the sale of the Janssen’s farm.

Back up at the farmhouse we had lunch with Earl and Marge, something we needed to do more often. It was a lively discussion to say the least, Earl pointed out that he was sure we understood what we were getting into. Marge looked over our plans for expansion with a keen eye towards the numbers we were working with, as the keeper of the farm books and expenditures, she has a valued, critical eye towards confirmation of our numbers.

Neither could find fault, they were glad we had put the time in to understand the potential and pratfalls and were understanding of where we thought our limits were and would be. It was then Marge dropped a vital, critical bit of news. It was known in her circle of friends, that Mr. Janssen had over the past couple of years, turned down more than a few substantial offers for his farm. If the gossip she was party to was correct, his first choice would be to sell to someone like us. While they had plowed much of their income back into the farm and kept it as up to date as possible with the constant changes in farming methods and operations, it did come at a cost. Simply put, Mr. Janssen was not amenable to see his life’s labors simply disappear.

It was Marge’s suggestion we call Uncle Ernest, her oldest son and town banker, to see if we could meet this afternoon. I was a nervous as a cat getting a bath as Uncle Ernest hmphed and cleared his throat as he reviewed our numbers, his fingers flying over the keys of his fancy adding machine. He kept looking for things in the summary of our joint accounts and investments. As he poured through the numbers he would frown and rarely smile. When his fingers weren’t dancing over the machine’s numerical keys, they were summarizing our financials on a legal pad with a stubby pencil missing its eraser.

When it looked like he was finished, he sat back and eyed me curiously for a couple of seconds. “Ma told me you did most of the grunt work putting this business plan together…is that true”?

I nodded in the affirmative, my throat suddenly dry. I was sweating bullets now and managed to croak out a timid “Yes sir”.

A wan smile crossed his face as if contemplating how he should address the idiots sitting across from him “The both of you should know our mother”, he said deliberately pointing at Ethan and me, “Has to have one of the strongest mathematical minds I have ever has the good fortune to know”.

Continuing, “She runs circle around me in her analytical abilities. I’m not sure why she sent you down if for no other reason to tease me a bit. I will say I am pleasantly surprised and impressed with the work you have put into your approach. I can’t find much to fault; you undervalued a couple of assumptions in your investment portfolios”.

Internally I was able to unclench the tautness in my rigid posture, it was as if I could take a deep breath again. After all I was still a kid, not even out of high school. “So, I squeaked out…our numbers work’?

“Before I answer that, I would like to know more about how you came to your conclusions, your assumptions about your approach, why you feel you will succeed where others are selling out”.

Forty-minutes later I had laid all I knew out on the line. I could cite chapter and verse from all the trade publications and farming journals. Once again, the time I found myself in the library requesting the loan of obscure periodicals and government programs, Mr. Hopkins was only too glad to not only obtain said items, but show me where there was more information to be had. It was a minor bone of contention betwixt Ethan and me, but I had them spread all over our rooms and the current stack sitting on the bathroom trash can next to the toilet.

When I had finished my spiel, Uncle Ernest looked at Ethan and simply said, “Don’t let him go”! Turning back to me he said, “Now, let’s get down to business”.

Pushing his legal pad towards me he continued, “This is what the Janssen’s farm is worth, both as a farm and broken up for development”.

What I saw for numbers pretty much confirmed my thoughts as a farming operation, I was off a bit but it wasn’t an insurmountable number. The price for the property broken up was much more than I had envisioned. Uncle Ernest asked the both of us to take a moment to review his findings and that he would be right back, as he stepped out of his office.

“You really want to do this…don’t you”? Ethan asked as he stood and pulled me into his arms.

“It would kill me if Rivers Edge were broken up”, I replied. Chagrinned at the enormity I was asking us to undertake.

“Not sure how you manage to get me to do the darndest things but I see your reasoning and if this is what you really want to do…I’m in”! Ethan calmly told me as he pulled me into a light kiss. We were broken up as Uncle Ernest came back into his office handing me an envelope.

“Ma tells me you are meeting with Mr. Janssen tomorrow morning to walk the farm and the property. I have written down what you and I believe is a fair number and a number you are not to exceed. In the envelope is a bank check for a deposit. When you come to an agreement as to the purchase price, you will fill in that check for twenty percent of that cost. You needn’t worry, your liquid capital will more than cover that. We will speak with your Uncle Everett tomorrow after you leave and he will draft all the necessary legal papers for the mortgage”.

With that he shooed us out of his office wishing us good luck in the morning, and not to celebrate too much…just yet, he said with a wink and a slap on my backside. Little did he know the plans I had for my man this afternoon!

I can say with all honestly, that Ethan rode the tiger that afternoon and by the time we were done, we were both exhausted!