Riding a Stone Boat

If you’ve ever planted a garden or dug in a flower bed or walked on a plowed farm field, you know how those pesky stones poke up unexpectedly from the earth. 

May is the month when farmers plow, harrow, and sow their crops here in the Northeast. Winter, and the snows it brings, has finally disappeared. Now that rainy April has shut off the water spigot in the sky, the drier fields await attention, and their only gift to the farmer is stones. 

When the last glacier came down from the Arctic region, it kneaded stones into the soil at varying depths. And when the mile-high ice sheet eventually melted away, it deposited rocks which had been embedded in the ice. When the fields are plowed for planting, the frost action often lifts these rocks to the surface. 

For many farmers, this meant the back-breaking work of picking these stones before planting could begin. How did they do it? With stone boats, also called a drag or skid boat. 

A stone boat is a long, low, flat sled-like contraption, often homemade and consisting of wooden planks mounted across a pair of wide runners similar to a sleigh. Some are built with a turned up nose to make dragging it across the field easier. It’s surmised that this upturned prow reminded early farmers of a boat gliding through water. The stone boat in theory glides over the soil.  

In the early days, stone boats were pulled by horses. Later, they were dragged over the fields by tractors. Our stone boat was hooked to our Farmall tractor with chains, probably the same hitch that was used when my father farmed as a boy. 

I remember picking stone with Dad on a field where we usually planted corn. The back-breaking technique of the job has not changed over the years. You pick up the larger stones and place them around the outside of the boat and throw the smaller ones inside. 

Once the stone boat is filled, it’s taken to the back or low end of the field where the hard work of touching each stone is once again needed to unload the boat. I should mention that some thought does go into this simple tiresome process. You must decide where you’ll deposit the stones before you begin. Stone boats can’t be backed up. 

If you take a drive into the country, you’ll often see these “stone piles” alongside farmer’s fields where a piece of land has been cleared. However, stone piles have now dwindled as construction companies request the crude stone to use in building houses and replicating stone walls.

Is there any joy in picking rocks? Only one. Once the boat is loaded, you get to hop on and ride the boat to the stone pile where you unload it. 

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HELLO, APRIL!

 I’m the first to admit that I enjoy April.

April is when all the flowers from bulbs beneath the sleepy earth emerge. Daffodils, crocus, wind flowers, and small grape hyacinths bring color, scent, and life back to the flowerbeds.

I think back to my childhood and how my mother loved plants and bushes of all types. We were a  farm family, and  it was not unusual to visit a neighbor’s house and go home with a piece of a bush, or some shoots wrapped in a wet rag, or a bundle of roots tied up in a burlap feed bag. Mother always found a place to plant her treasures and nurse them to maturity. And the favor was returned when friends, relatives, and neighbors came to call and left with a clump of rhubarb or day lilies.

At the front corner of my house, I still have trumpet vines from cuttings my mother gave me decades ago. Every fall we chop them back to stubby trunks, and in the spring they explode in a flourish of leaves and blossoms that entice the hummingbirds.

In the back yard, I have a bed of rag roses from around an old stone foundation of a house built in the early 1800s and situated along a well-used route westward. Everyone always referred to the cleared, often muddy pathway as “The Old Road.”

And, my favorite from our farm is at the side of my house—a large clump of Jack in the Pulpits my mother coddled in one of her flowerbeds.

April brings back lots of good memories. It’s a time of warm days, a time to get ready for spring planting and, for those of us who like to play in the dirt, it’s a month of sheer joy.

I’ll end with a colloquialism that the farmers often used in northeastern Pennsylvania: “So long, March. Hello, April!”

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Bucket Gardens in May

"It's May, it's May, the lusty month of May
That lovely month when everyone goes blissfully astray
It's here, it's here, that shocking time of year,
When tons of wicked little thoughts merrily appear."
                Lusty Month of May - from Camelot

Despite the snow, despite the rain, May is the time when those with a bit of farming gene in their blood start thinking about spring gardens as they sit in their recliners in the evening and pour over stacks of seed catalogs. They are anxious and ready, and they know there is magic in the month of May. Soon it will be planting time and the excitement of growing vegetables and flowers is as exhilarating today as it was for their ancestors centuries and centuries ago. Seeds are united with soil, sun, air and water to create the miracle of life.

This year, I’ve convinced my husband into making me a bucket garden stand from two-by-four lumber. It consists of two-levels of raised shelves where five-gallon, plastic buckets—filled with soil, seeds, or plants—stand above ground to make gardening simple and easy. I’ve added a picture here, but it’s not my stand.

I’m pondering what plants I want to grow, but I know for sure that two buckets will be filled with tomato plants, one will be a basil plant, and another will be seeded with yellow squash. Since mine is an eight bucket stand, I have time to come up with some other choices, including one bucket that may be filled with flowers. I can’t wait to smell the soil, stand in the sunshine, and get some dirt under my fingernails. As soon as our creation is finished, I'll be sure to post a picture.

Now, all we have to do is chase this rainy, cold weather away, and let the lusty magical month of May arrive with all its blossoms, bird songs, and beauty.  

Coming June 24th - HUCKLEBERRY HAPPINESS 

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