APRIL 2017 • COUNTRY LIFE IN BC Henderson has troubles passing the buck
When we left off last month, Henderson had just directed Ken Nielson to have his son, Bobby, dump a truck load of sawdust in front of the barn. Too bad he wasn’t there when the truck arrived.
Mt. Everest of sawdust out there is what’s the matter. What possessed you to let them dump it there? How could you not hear the truck?”
Back Forty by BOB COLLINS
Kenneth Henderson’s
features hardened as he inspected the mountain of sawdust piled in front of his barn. His temper abandoned him halfway back to the house. “Good Lord, Deborah, what
the hell’s the matter with you?”
Deborah hurried from the
kitchen. “What’s the matter?” “What’s the matter? That
WANNABE
I mention this simply because the current owners, young folks and producers of delicious meals, ventured out into the world of “pop-up stores”. Other small towns host the event, book the facility and bring in the Forget folk to cook. Profits over costs go to non-profits in that town. Now, if that isn’t innovative and worthy of commendation, I don’t know what is.
The third example involves
two of a number of women entrepreneurs who have carved out a viable and profitable niche in our local economies. Members of the Women in Business organization, both Elaine and Christine have built businesses in the face of all sorts of obstacles, including the death of Elaine’s husband and the failure of a parent company of products Christine was successfully marketing. They’ve expanded their list of offerings and extended the life of what was once a Christmas season pop- up store to a full time operation. In addition to their products, a number of other women entrepreneurs are selling everything from home grown and processed jams and jellies to homemade bread and pasta. (By the way, all done legally and according to standards). Why am I mentioning in these things? After all, they
Deborah crossed her arms and regarded her husband. “As a matter
of fact, I did hear the truck, Kenneth. I spoke to the
driver and told him I was sure he had the wrong address. He phoned his office to check with his boss and his boss called you to make sure he dumped it exactly where you wanted it, so I don’t know what-in-hell-the matter with me is. It’s a good question though.”
Kenneth tried to interrupt her but the ominous glint in her eyes backed him down. “You asked, so let me
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aren’t shaking the world of commerce or agriculture. No, they aren’t, but what they are doing is demonstrating in a world that has been shaken by political and economic upheaval that failure doesn’t have to be inevitable. Large farm owner and operator? I applaud you; keep it up! Small business owner and operator? Keep on serving your clientele and following your dream because every bit – big or small – keeps the world and our economy going.
finish. I’ve been thinking about the same question a lot lately. Just what the hell is the matter with me? Truth be told, I’ve wondered about it for the past 15 years and I’ve come to the conclusion that maybe there isn’t very much wrong with me after all. Now, I’m wondering, what the hell is the matter with you?” “Oh, really,” said Kenneth.
“So, tell me, Deborah what is it you think is the matter with me?”
Deborah stared at him for a full ten seconds, then turned and walked back into the kitchen. Best let it go, she thought. Kenneth followed her. “Come on, Deborah. Out
with it. If there’s something on your mind just say it. I’d be very interested to know what you think is wrong with me.” Deborah pushed a note pad and pencil across the counter. “Fair enough. Take these.
You might want to make notes.” Her voice became deliberate. “Here’s the short list: you
are sarcastic, you are critical, you are insensitive, you are self-centered and you have a vindictive mean streak.” “Is that all?’ snorted Kenneth. “Probably not,” said Deborah.
Kenneth left and slammed the back door behind him. Deborah could hear the truck wheels spinning in the gravel all the way down the driveway.
“I forgot to mention childish and vindictive,” she said out loud.
vvv
Kenneth came to a gravel- crunching halt in Newt Pullman’s yard two minutes later. Rocky barked out a warning and Newt walked out of the barn to see what the fuss was. “Do you know the guy
from Nelson’s sawmill?” asked Kenneth, without so much as a hi-how-are-you. “Ken or Benny?” asked
Newt. “I know them both.” “Who’s the clown who
drives the sawdust truck?” “That’d be young Bobby,
Ken’s son. But Bobby’s no clown; he’s a nice, hard working young fella.” “Well, he just dumped a whole load of sawdust right in front of my barn. I can’t even open the big door.” “I can’t imagine Bobby
making a mistake like that. What do you suppose gave him the idea you wanted a truck full of sawdust dumped up there? Sounds like some sort of practical joke. You should give Kenny a call and see who paid for it.” “I paid for it,” said Kenneth. “Ah,” said Newt. “And did
you tell him to dump it up by the barn?
Kenneth nodded. “Well, then, sounds like
everything worked out just how you planned it then.” Kenneth professed to being misled about the volume of sawdust in a truck full and the advisability of dumping it close to where it
was needed. He asked Newt what he should do with it and did he know anyone who might want to buy half a load?
Newt said there weren’t
many big sawdust users around who didn’t already buy it by the load and that it was always easier to sell when it was still in the truck. He said that if it got wet, it wouldn’t be much good for bedding at all so Kenneth should put as much of it as he could into the barn and cover the rest with a big tarp before it rained, which it looked like it might do overnight.
Kenneth asked how he should get the sawdust into the barn. Newt said a scoop shovel and wheel barrow was one way, or he could give Grady Evans a call and get him to shove in as much of it as he could with his Bobcat. Kenneth asked for Grady’s
number.
Grady said he wouldn’t be able to get there until the day after tomorrow. Kenneth said that it was going to rain overnight.
Grady said that was okay because he didn’t figure it would rain enough to hold him up so he’d be there at nine or ten or so, day after tomorrow.
Kenneth drove home an hour later with a shiny new $140 tarp. He decided to make a start by wheelbarrowing the sawdust against the big door straight into the veal calves’ pen. ... to be continued
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