O’Neill: Preparing for a storm

Casey O’Neill is a farmer and owner of Happy Day Farms in Laytonville, Calif. The opinions expressed in this column do not necessarily reflect the views of The Mendocino Voice. If you’d like to write your own column for The Mendocino Voice, send your idea to info@mendovoice.com.

As the storm bore down on us, we prepared as best we could, checking ditches, tightening plastic coverings and moving animals under cover. We spent part of Tuesday working on the barn, drilling and bolting new bracing into place on the upper posts and beams to add stability to the hundred-year-old structure.

After all the work getting ready, I slept well Tuesday night, although we were awakened by a powerful gust that rocked the house sometime in the wee hours of the morning. I could hear the rain hitting on the windows that face to the southeast, which is a sign that the storm is at maximum intensity. 

Wednesday morning, Amber and I headed for the ranch for animal chores, and as we crested the rise where the barn became visible, my jaw dropped and the truck coasted to a stop. The barn was still standing, but about a 35 x 50-foot section of roofing on the southeast corner had been lifted up and folded over like a piece of tinfoil onto the western part of the roof. It’s hard to describe how stunned I felt, the sinking feeling of loss and realization of additional workload.  After taking in the barn roof situation, we went about morning chores. I was relieved to find that the old wooden shingles still in place under the metal roofing were doing a pretty good job of keeping water out of the southeast corner of the barn, and the remaining three-quarters of undamaged roof meant that overall the structure was still functioning. As we worked to reset the electrified poultry netting around the chickens, a gust caught me off balance and almost flattened me. 

We’ve had plans to work on the barn this winter, but we were focused more on the main posts and beams that have stood for so long. The barn has begun to lean, and some of the main beams show evidence of dry rot, so we’ve been planning to work with a local contractor to mill new timber, put in concrete footings and shore up the structure. 

Now we’re assessing our limited economic resources and trying to figure out what we’ll be able to accomplish. We can’t do anything with the roof until things dry out, and then we’ll need to put down new horizontal nailers to re-attach the metal roofing. When the wind took it, the original nailers went with it, holding the metal in one big sheet. My initial hope was to be able to use a piece of equipment to fold the whole sheet back over, but I am having doubts about the structural integrity of that process. 

It may be that we have to cut the old nailers and separate each sheet of metal and replace them individually, although I still have hopes that we can do the whole thing as one unit both for overall ease of effort and to minimize damage along the way. We’ll have to wait until we’re into the process to see what will work. The height, massive size, and steep pitch of the roof will mean being roped into harnesses for safety, and I swing back and forth between being daunted and being determined. 

I’m heartened and made hopeful by the many offers of support and assistance that we’ve received. The strength that comes from community and shared effort is one of the great pillars in my life, providing joy in good times and succor when the road gets rough. As much as this is gonna be a big job, it could be so much worse, and I’m grateful that the animals and hay are still relatively dry. 

Weather creates a funny juxtaposition in which most regular work slows to a halt, but extra checking and maintenance sometimes fill the gap. There is time for puzzles, reading and movies, but also a need to be out in the intense weather checking on things. Good rain gear is essential, one set for vegetable work and one set for working with animals (poop and food don’t mix). 

Though we lost the plastic on the weakest two vegetable tunnels, the bulk of the cool weather crops survived the storm without much damage. I’m still hopeful for a good run of tasty, crunchy winter vegetables. Farming is classic gambling, and nature always holds the strongest cards. I think about what it means to farm in the winter, the effort of battling the elements, the inevitable damage to infrastructure from weather. 

Despite the difficulties, winter farming brings some of my favorite crops; all of the crisp crunch brings health and vitality to my body and joy to my heart and soul. As hard as things can be, I reflect that there isn’t anything else I’d rather be doing. Farming will knock me down and kick the shit out of me, but for as long as I am able, I’ll get back up to do it again. As always, much love and great success to you on your journey!