November 5, 1963
I visited the Doerksen gran'ma. She pattered on about long ago, while
I leafed thru a large photo album. Scoop. There was one Doerksen who was
happy. Dad's brother. An easy friendliness, extremely photogenic. Head of
the waterworks in a town of about 5000 pop. On call 24 hrs, 7 days, all
months. Hes 40. Dad asked him if he had any regrets, you know, tough job
etc, just one he said: im getting old.
Theres no such thing as luck. Fate yes.
November 22, 63
Bartells were up country about one week. They brought glowing parental
reports on Marvin and spouse, and a new arrival. Apparently Marvin has been
made over. They have money in a savings account, are ahead on their payments,
have built a house, and paid for all costs brought on by junior. "He
has a very good wife" said Mr Bartell. Nuts.
I pulled another land deal this week. A twelve year lease with option
to buy.
I got to know a new person. A thinish fellow with mouse chewed haircut,
5'10", and quite nervous. A "small" man. All of us feel our
smallness, some show it some swallow it, some of us live on the precarious
brink of its fear. He doesnt talk, he chatters, indecisively, as though
some pushy person is there to be eluded.
Next spring, I'm going to plant 500 Douglas Fir trees. These silent natives
can grow to be 400 year old. Wonder if they will. Thats all for tonite.
Dec 1, 63
The valley is enjoying one of its rare sunny spells in winter. Brittle
still cold at night, and the cold winter sun by day. Its full moon now.
Jan 4, 1964
It is with a certain joy that I write you. I hope you will be able to
catch my feeling thru the words. The feeling is very near to abandon.
I don't need, or want your concern, or any one's concern - ever! I've
been tidying up my room and its done great things for the mental image.
I'd let fire destroy a lot of paper, but i'm not that small, I hope.
Some how at the beginning of the year I lack direction, an aimless speck
in the pointless cauldron called Canada. Radioactive particles, Alpha Beta
Gama also move by laws of nature but they fulfill a purpose.
Atheism, Materialism, Communism .....
I'm still not nostalgic. Don't let university sophisticate you to the
point where morals religion etc are all good - for your daughters. You will
keep your head up and not let "everybodys doing" dissect and deteriorate
you.
I dont know where im going -- but im going nontheless.
Good-bye - sir. Happy birth days and New Years a plenty for you. Lets
keep the greetings here after strictly unwritten - you understand.
March 6, 64
When your note arrived I read it and folded it and put it in my back
pocket. By evening the exposed part of the address was nearly obliterated,
but not all things erode as quickly, do they?
Tonite it is nearly 12 as I write this and the feeling present is void
of joy, but a measure of serenity exists.
I'm very busy, my field work is nearly done. Now only the planting remains,
and that is well begun.
Some how ive picked up ten lbs, and can work harder and stay up later.
Im a panel member in the F.V. Growers association.
The danger of a killing frost is nearly over
March 22 [to my parents]
I got a Tcaichovsky No 1 for christmas
Today a persistent raw nor'east wind worries me. Presently the temp is
still 46 degrees, but at 35 mph a cold front could quickly arrive and ruin
all our berries as the sap is up.
April 23, 64
Dear Epps;
Showers, bleeding hearts, skunk cabbages and croaking frogs, thats our
spring.
Went to the B.C. Interior to visit my friend and do some fishing. At
3000 plus altitude 20 above at nite was not unusual, and at day time 68
degrees - T shirt weather.
You could not write a better script for my fishing achievements. Steelhead
in the Chilcoten River happened to be running thick when I arrived. My opening
one was a seven lb buck, next was a 12 lb doe. After that I lost two of
undetermined size to line breakage. Takes 10-20 min to land them. My friend
Marvin was more expert than I and managed to land 5 does in the 9-10 lb
range.
Fish steaks by an open fire with potatoes in foil wrap, roasted in coals.
Oops, sat on a prickly pear cactus.
May 1, 64
Quiet fatigue is the setting, as on a Friday evening the house is silently
listening to Beethoven - he overpowers one -
the sun almost gone, a chill in the air from a sudden cold shower over
supper. The unmoving fruit trees sprayed with spring bridal whiteness. The
pink peach blossoms aren't visible in the half light.
An unusually cool spring with austere mountains having visible fresh
snow this morning. Otherwise my work is as nearly on schedule as could be
wished for.
I picked up my 800 "douglas fir coast" (Tchaichovsky takes
you with him) on April 4. They were in cold storage, in a sealed wax package
at about 36 degrees. The ground bed for them had been well worked and as
a finale I ran down the line with my subsoiler (a single steel tooth that
penetrates to about 24' depth) to break the subsoil for the roots of the
trees. 380 was all I needed, the rest going to a nursery friend of mine.
Spent Apr 17-18-19 at M & S Bartells. They have a girl that wakes
at 5 am to coo and gurgle generally trying to bestow exuberance on surrounding
subjects.
Spreading juniper, which you dont go near for fear of ticks, is a lovely
tree that just spreads along the ground with age.
Share ssomething with me. On the north end of my raspberry field is a
fir tree about 35 ft high, and one day as I worked in the field a hawk landed
in the top. He looked awhile, and dove into the wind almost straight at
me, passing about 12' from me, near enough for me to see the large eyes
and color spots on the head. On the same line of descent he threaded through
two raspberry rows with out brushing a cane and rose with a twisting screaming
mouse.
The hawk rose victoriously and I felt one with him - a victor. A very
tiny part of me felt one with the mouse, in the knowledge someday everyone
will lose.
It's night out.
May 31, 64
I feel a little alone, perhaps thats why im writing. My great grandfather
on Dad's side, in Russia of course, told his son "a Doerksen has to
be a little alone." Maybe that episode isn't exactly correct factually
but somehow it's been handed down.
It was 88 degrees today.
Things look very good financially, berries are in excellent condition.
We were dickering on 65 acres of extra land, but now we are looking at a
40 acre plot.
This fall there'll be money in the coffer providing I don't buy more
property.
Life at best is very brief
Like the falling of a leaf.
Have been meeting new people.
I custom spray berries for insect pests, for $5 per hr.
No matter how stupid a person seems he thinks. Everyone is almost as
smart as the next person. I learned this very painfully long ago, and have
to remind myself often. People think they fool me, and I think I fool them,
but it's not so.
June 20
Ah yes, the wall. That whispers - "you fool you dropped your guard
you are exposed"
When someone lays himself bare and finds he is being snickered at, he
recoils like a crawling worm that you touch on the head.
John Friesen has strawberries beside Czak, and last Sunday he showed
them off to me. There were enough ripe to make me uncomfortable.
From his field I could see a clump of dogwood, the ones that saw a cow
eat some strawberries. I looked at it and marked the spot mentally. A little
later, I looked again and it seemed far away, and fuzzy and indistinct.
John chattered on obliviously and I dont know what he said.
July 22
A near full moon is out tonight one of the very few clear nights.
We've had an unceasing drizzle for two weeks. 40% of the valley rasp
crop is rotten. Mine is safe because I sprayed for rot four times. We have
plenty of pickers, because we bought a bus.
I hear your folks are rained out this year.
In august I went fishing and caught 19 trout which varied from 1/2 -3
lbs. Also collected on the excursion were 3 arrow heads and one hide scraper,
which were casually picked up while hiking to and from the river (Chilco
R.)
The size of the crop was a disappointment on account of a record rainfall
this summer. However I'm riding things out and optimism is invaluable.
Went hunting recently and returned with one deer. With me I took "Sound
& the Fury" by Faulkner which I read by lantern while alternatively
smoking a pipe, and sipping a bedtime whiskey with honey and hot water.
I missed two deer and one moose. Too excited.
journal
summer 1965
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