Another weekend, another day at the farm.
This time, we were spreading fertilizer around the sweet persimmon trees.
(click to bigify pictures)
Each bag was 20kg and that’s not that heavy, except for the terrain. Each persimmon tree has been cut or pruned (what am I, an arbourist?) so that it grows wide, not tall. To travel more than three metres, one must duck and twist to fit between the branches. I had a bit of a cold, so I was trying to keep my head high so my nose wouldn’t run all day.
It seemed like a lot of packaging for that fertilizer. We used more than 150 bags after all. On the other hand, for reasons stated above, we couldn’t drive the tractor, adorably small though it is, between the trees.
Here are my wife’s oldest brother and their father. I am not sure why they ploughed (plowed?) the ground under the trees, maybe it was to either hold to channel away rain (What am I, an engineer?) or to mix the fertilizer into the ground.
and now for something completely different:
The Flying Spaghetti Monster has a church here. Who knew?