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The Rural Voice, 1999-06, Page 6Making Super Wrench really deserves to indulge in his passions. and I'm always supportive. Not a complaint was uttered when he tell in love with golf clubs. Neither do I moan and groan when he takes off to yet another sale to find the special treasures his customers appreciate. He refers to these pastimes as his hobby and business. I would . appreciate. though, the same consideration when a passion strikes me. It is not fair. as has happened, that my wishes have been termed as an obsession. Must be a man thing. All I started out to do four years ago was to try and get a little co- operation in transforming a weedy four -acre field, that's of no use to anyone, into something wildlife — and I — could enjoy. Most of the no brain work has to be done by a knowledgeable machinery operator. It isn't as if machinery is in short supply with a hundred odd pieces ON JUNE 3RD Re-elect BILL MURDOCH p BRUCE -GREY Experienced... Approachable... Effective Ontario P6: 519-371-2730 Authorized by the CFO for the Bill Murdoch Campaign 2 THE RURAL VOICE Gisele Ireland a deal with Super sitting in the yard lineup. What's in short supply is a willing operator with a little enthusiasm and passion. Year one was a total loss. None of the usual techniques worked and both Super Wrench and son ran in the opposite direction when they saw me approach with definite purpose in my step. The weeds flourished and I built up a good head of steam. Year two I had 1,000 tree seedlings delivered. Waste of any kind appalls Super Wrench and he was compelled by his Scottish ancestry to work up a chunk to plant a nursery. Of course, the only land available was the scrub field. I felt a mild stab of elation until I heard them discuss how dry the land was down there and it would be a miracle if any of the seedlings survived. I fooled them. I bought eight miles of hose and watered diligently. Ninety per cent of the trees made it. Year three was an ongoing saga of nothingness. That's not true — they called someone in to come and spray the hill with herbicide so I could see the stones that needed to be picked. They figured I would lose interest and take up bingo or lawn bowling instead. Again, I fooled them and made a very decorative stone pile in the middle and planted wild grape vines around it to get it covered and added a huge birdhouse. By year four I was desperate. I had this ridiculous stone pile in the middle of a bare chunk of land with a birdhouse mounted on a huge wooden roller, sticking out like a sore thumb. In addition, I had raised enough perennials in the past two years to cover at least an acre and had nowhere to put them. Then there Wrench were the 900 trees outgrowing the nursery. What to do? As a last resort, after nagging had failed, blackmail proved ineffective and tears just yielded a momentary pause and a box of tissues, I suddenly turned on a full dose of helplessness. I mentioned, just in passing mind you, that the dead grass was three feet thick and I couldn't get my shovel through it. Was there anything these strong, smart men could think of to help me? Super Wrench immediately came up with fire. Yup. that was the solution. He would burn the grass off and at the same time get rid of that old fence that was an eyesore on the landscape. I had almost forgotten his pyromaniac tendencies and almost jumped up and down for joy when he followed through. The neighbours stopped in alarm and a happy Wrench just waved them on as he watched the old posts burn like beacons in the evening sky. I'm surprised he didn't come in for weenies and marshmallows. That evening, more than the fence was fired up. Super Wrench suddenly came up with the idea that the landscaping would be outstanding if we featured, very prominently mind /ou, some of his treasures purchased at sales. You know, things that everybody uses on the land nowadays like turnip seeders, celery mud rakes and so forth. You get the picture. I went for the trade-off. I stipulated if it was really ugly, he'd have to relegate it to the junk heap. If I could grow vegetation around it, on it, or in it, I'd include it. Fair enough. If anyone out there has successfully covered an ancient hay loader, about 12 feet high, with interesting steel wheels with anything flowering and attractive, I'd like to hear from you. Fair is fair, Super Wrench promised to work up another chunk if I made it a highlight. Burning it doesn't count.0 Gisele Ireland, from Bruce County, is an author of several humorous books on farm life.