Yesterday was a beautiful, clear, sunny day. It started out cold, but by mid-morning the sun had warmed the surface of the ground and my gravel pile was soft again. We could have finished the shoveling. Unfortunately Donald was a no-show. Our 10 AM meeting time came and went. No Donald. The other boy I had talked to about work did not arrive or phone either.
Something has switched off in my brain. In the past I would have been making calls, rousting sleepy boys out of bed, reminding forgetful workers of their commitments. But no more. I just don’t have the energy.
The carpenter, the electrician… if they can’t get back to me, I am now letting it go and looking elsewhere.
My hay man of recent years, Rick, promised to bring me hay the week of December 2. Every day I fed out my dwindling reserves and watched for his truck. No show.
At a local auction I ran into my former hay man, Joe, who is in his seventies now and retired. Joe mentioned he had a little unsold hay and promised to bring me a load. As always, Joe showed up early on the appointed day. We had all the hay stacked in the loft before the hour Joe had been scheduled to arrive. I figured this hay would be my insurance, my back-up.
I contacted Rick again December 9. He promised “for sure” to come that week. No show. No communication.
Rick’s hay is better than Joe’s. The bales are bigger and heavier so it is also proportionately cheaper. However Joe’s hay has one clear advantage: it is in my barn.
I am done with bird-dogging and chivvying and nipping at heels to get people to live up to their promises. I think I will get another load from Joe on the first clear day after the holiday.
In the meantime, I am collapsing with flu and fever, which may be a factor in my new, tougher mood.