We’re Establishing a Vineyard, Part 21: Tsunami Ahead

It’s after midnight. I’m poring over an English-language owner’s manual I “digged” from the internet, because the one I got from the dealership is only in German; the Polish manual is supposed to arrive, but for now, all I see outside the window is a lazy cat.

I’m not complaining anyway, because I managed to find this English replacement on a dealer’s website in Australia, deeply disguised, but stubborn beast that I am, I found it. Now I’m just trying to understand what such strange expressions as draft Whether ground control; I type these words quickly on YouTube because people understand things faster by looking at pictures. I have, ground so if I want to plow something, draft as soon as you load the manure. Such shoes.

After almost a year of planning, debating, changing my mind, disappointments, and surprises, planting day approaches with mounting fury like some Asian tsunami, ruthless, without mercy. Each day turns into a nightmare of anticipation and terror of the coming events. Will I be able to arrange it all so that I don’t wake up with my hand in the potty? Sometimes, an ominous thought even crosses my mind: maybe this whole mess is just one big mess, a laughingstock for the entire district and several neighboring municipalities. What was supposed to offer peace of mind is perversely a source of cruel stress.

But I’m exaggerating. Truthfully, I’m starting to understand, this blog is my cheaper form of self-therapy. Before I’m glued to the keyboard for good, an hour flies by, and not only do I release my anxiety but, most importantly, I don’t leave my pocket. I’m going to bed; tomorrow I’ll be riding a wild tractor. It doesn’t matter that I’ve lived my whole life without a clutch, with automatic transmission. It doesn’t matter that everyone in the yard, including the dog, looks at me like I’m crazy. I have the manual, in English, after all.