Our sleep patterns have been disrupted by water.
It’s been two weeks since our last rainfall, which isn’t great news for the latest rotation of bermuda grass plantings in our fields. Jon had the field sprigged a few weekends back, praying he wouldn’t have to drag out the irrigation hoses and set up a pump to pull water out of the river, but no such luck. It’s best to water into the night to reduce daytime evaporation and wind loss, and it takes about eleven hours to water a 400′ strip of grass from one end of the field to the other, and we have to be there when the hose coils itself up or else risk burning up the pump engine… or something like that. I don’t quite understand the mechanics because, I suppose, I don’t have to understand anything about them. Jon does it all.
“The whole point of doing this,” he grumbled around midnight, “was that it was supposed to be easy.”
And then went on to describe other business ventures he’d started that turned out to be a lot more work than he’d initially vetted for.
“We were only supposed to be here for a few weeks, and then go back to Guam, and go on vacations…”
“It sounds so easy,” I said.
“It will be.”