Lisa and the no good, very bad day

Today was one of those days. Nothing horrible happened - just a bunch of little things.

It started off good. I woke up on time and was able to mop my kitchen floor with ample time to sit and enjoy my breakfast and tea.

The morning at work was pretty good too.

And then not enough people showed up for my after lunch Monday meeting so I thought I would get a jump on afternoon work.

"Ah! The buggy (the 4WD vehicle we use in addition to our truck) is free and right in front of the vegetable garden's greenhouses! I will use it to grab our flats of eggplant and tomatoes so we can pot them up this afternoon!" I thought.

I struggled to get the buggy to drive to the greenhouse door. Put eight flats of plants in the back and on the front seat. I struggled again to get it started. Made it to the bottom of the road up to our greenhouse. Dead.

Ok. Check it for gas. Yes, it has gas. "At least I am on an incline and can put it in neutral and turn the wheel and push it backward so that it is off the road."

Walk up to the workshop. Our truck has a tiller in the back so I grab our car and fill up the back with four flats. Drive up to the workshop. Now it is time for afternoon work. Oliver comes to me - "Lisa! Someone took my seed work! There is nothing there!" Me: "Oliver, is there another way you can ask me for seed work?" Which he does and while I am setting it up for him still act incredulously. I snapped at him.

Everybody else is piling into the workshop and waiting to find out what their afternoon work is as well including a brand new woman to the village who is visiting on trial hoping to become a resident of the community. Some are more patient than others.

From there it is ok - everyone is happily at work and I put a call in about the buggy.

The reason I was in a rush was because I was hoping for a window to do some rototilling to prepare beds for pea planting on Wednesday. I find the tiller in the vegetable garden and bring it down to one of the gardens. One and a half beds in. Dead.

Check it. Out of gas. Ok - this has a solution. Thankfully one of the herb gardeners is driving their buggy down the road and offers to bring me to get some diesel.

I can't figure out how the diesel gas can works. I ask one of the herb gardeners to help me as she is working in the greenhouse next to the garden I am in. She can't figure out either and gets the most beautiful glass funnel I've ever seen to help pour the gas into the machine however by then I have figured out the friggen can. Back in business! (It is 4:30 by now).

Finish tilling the row and look at how wet the next row is. "Nah. Since these are raised beds and I am going down the center of them the middle will be dry enough and this will work" say I to myself.

Get halfway down. "Shit. Fuck." It is definitely too wet. I try to shut off the tiller but the automatic shutoff keeps getting jammed and of course it jams now. "Ok, just reverse it out" I think. But no, it is too deep at this point. I get it shut off finally and look at it. It has sunk halfway into the mud.

I ask the herb gardeners for help again. We think to dig it out but the mud is so wet, where we dig just fills with water with each shovel full. Well, time to ask for more help. I call the estate shed where the machine fixer-uppers work. "Yes, they would know how to get the tiller out!" No answer.

Well, I will call Ian - my 63 year old supervisor. He is very level headed and we talk about the best way to get it out. "So you think it would be too wet to get a truck in there?" "Yes," I respond. "So what do we need?" He's a good coach. Doesn't give you the answers. "I think 3 or 4 strong folks could muscle it out." "Ok," he says, "you stay in the garden and I'll see who I can find and we will meet you in the garden as soon as well can."

Sure enough, within 5-8 minutes a car full of guys is ready to help pull out the tiller, not a one looking ready to be in mud. In the meantime I've planted a chestnut that sprouted in the middle of the garden.

Indeed, the four of us are able to spend the last 20 minutes of work hauling this machine out of the mud. Being the one wearing calf high wellies, I placed myself in the muddiest areas and actually had to get pulled out at one point as one foot got stuck too.

Brought the tiller back to the vegetable shed, both it and I covered in mud, myself also covered in diesel and shame. Also, not much work done.

I am my worst critic and when I fail, I take it hard. I wanted to cry at multiple points even though they were little frustrations and not catastrophic events. By the end of my car ride back to my apartment I felt better. And after I took the dog my flat mate is watching for a run I had shed almost all of my frustration and shame from the day.