Ethereal Agriculture, # 6— “Preparing Your Belts”

They were still a fair ways off from selling the increased volume of fermented cider. Kendo had some kind of peculiar enthusiasm for feeding the animals, particularly the chickens. Baker was pretty sure that he preferred how much easier it was to deal with chicken waste and gathering eggs than to deal with goat manure and milking goats. At any rate, their respective chores were becoming well-organized and streamlined. Baker didn’t quite like manning the juicer, but he liked the revenue it provided. At this point, so long as he had salad dressing, cheese, some basic protein, and a small collection of sundries that made him comfortable, he could put up with the juice and cheese press for as long as it took. He got the feeling that one day he’d be manning the grill full-time, raising the bar for what their little family called food.

They were still working on increasing output to justify Kendo’s appetite and the recent investments of a cheese press, new brewing buckets, and the tending of the expanded garden. The goats’ milk did not always prove enough to use the cheese press as often as they could. 

“By the way, is there winter in Flora?” said Baker.

“Yes… but it has a way of stalling until our belts are ready,” said Jerrick.

“...Belts?”

“You might hafta tighten your belt, Baker,” said Olive.

Baker quailed.

“There’s ways to make up for it. Sell some firewood.”

“Firewood!?”

“It sells hotter in winter.”

“Think about it, Bake,” said Olive, “All the other jobs we have will get easier. No more gardening or gathering apples.”

Baker did some quick, estimative tallying.

“So we’re gonna need to hang on to boatloads of everything. Apples, carrots, potatoes. Can we even do that!?”

“Potatoes are no problemo,” said Jerrick, “But we’ll need to convert a lot of it into juice, so it stays fresh.”

Baker sweltered. “How many bottles is that!?”

“We’re comin’ along just fine, Bake,” said Jerrick.

Baker didn’t stop sweating.

“That’s why Jerr invested in the new stuff, Bake. We want everything to be perfect so we can eat well.”

Baker sighed. “I should have known.”

“But you were right about the beehive. It’s much better to wait till next spring.”

“Can you hustle, Kendo?” said Jerrick.

Kendo gave the affirmative. “I can chop wood! Will we still get a new game?”

“We’re sorry it’s not a videogame, Kendo,” said Olive, “You’ve been growing up so fast!”

“I like it here,” said Kendo, “You’re really nice.”

Kendo did little to expound upon his history, but it was filled with ignorance and parental neglect. He was raised on devices, but his dining had been adequate. For Kendo, it was less about food and more about having parents, and Jerrick and Olive had needed to do some patchwork. Baker preferred the role of older brother, even though he was old enough to be Kendo’s father.

Baker redoubled his efforts to scale back costs and increase output. He voluntarily abnegated things that comforted him: the soft toilet paper, cola, hard cider, cheese, butter, and even honey in his cold milk. He made do with olive oil, minced garlic, salt, onions, and even less meat that he craved. He couldn’t bear the idea of a whole season without seasonings. What if they had no ketchup, butter, sour cream, and nothing but potatoes to eat? That would be more than two steps backward…

Kendo hustled to the point where he had hours in the day to chop wood in readiness for winter.

Jerrick and Olive ever-so-carefully instructed Kendo in axe safety. Combined with saws, Kendo inexpertly felled a tree, and took delight in yelling “TIMBERRRRR!” However, even with his renewed spirit, with only saws and axes to work with, they didn’t actually get to the point where they could turn the logs into firewood. Kendo was exhausted the next day, and made do with gathering kindling, which Jerrick assured him was just as important.

“Wow, it’s getting pretty economic out here,” said Baker.

“We’ll be firewood magnates!” said Olive.

Jerrick chuckled.

Kendo began boasting how much he learned and contributed, and his juvenile designs for economic growth due to his firewood production.

Olive thought it was cute, and so did Jerrick. And so did Baker.

Just then, another newcomer arrived from the Willow Portal.

It was a young girl, with freckles and brown hair. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Baker.

“Oh, Bake,” said Olive, “she won’t eat much.”

“Huh?” said the girl.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

She was bewildered.

“... um, my name is Pollen.”

Olive squealed at the cute name. Baker perspired. Kendo looked on with interest.

“Welcome aboard, Pollen,” said Jerrick, and smiled warmly.