For days on end now, I wait until noon or so for the grass to dry, since that seems to correlate with the tobacco leaf finally drying. I walk the tobacco beds, decide what needs to be harvested first--everything is beyond ready--and before I get going at it, it begins to drizzle.
Two days ago, I stalk-cut all the PA Swarr-Hibshman during a brief dry window (when I should have been mowing--see below). Today, I managed to prime some Machu Picchu, and all but the tips of the Chichicaste 712.
Some natty old runt stalks that have been hanging in my shed for over a year molded yesterday. No loss, but certainly a marker of the worrisome state of the curing weather. I worry about all the hanging stalks from this season. I can't access some of them, since the shed is so jammed. I do believe that stems don't easily mold on a still-living stalk.
Being mostly retired, I have the time to get everything done, but Mother Nature is winning out. Completely aside from the weather, being retired means that my back, knees and every other joint--they've all gone to hell. When I walk the tobacco (a euphemism for inspecting each plant, removing suckers, picking worms, etc.) it takes about 90 minutes. I do that twice a day. I've optimized the stooping and squatting beside the plants by only doing so at every other plant. At the peak of the season, that came to about 125 deep knee bends twice a day. (I think we used to do 50 a day on the High School track team.) At this point in the season, it takes about 1/2 the time, and only about 60 deep knee bends twice a day.
To top it all off this week, when the weather looked like I could finally mow the jungle that has arisen, the drive system on my John Deere lawn tractor gave up the ghost. I wallowed on the damp ground, trying to determine what was wrong by Braille. (You can't see a damn thing without removing the belly mower, and that alone takes about 40 minutes.) I finally gave up. With a lowering sky, I pushed that heavy mother up hill, up the lip of the cement pad, and back into the shed. Getting it up the cement lip required using a wood fence post as a lever. Yesterday morning the tractor dealer picked it up. So the grass will be knee deep, by the time I get the tractor back.
But, you know, life isn't just the destinations. It's mostly the journeys. And I enjoy stringing leaf or rolling a stogie more than I enjoy watching the mind-numbing drivel on TV. Growing tobacco, and handling it all the way from seed to ash is among the more gratifying tasks that I've engaged in during my life. Yup. It's a butt load of work.
Bob
