Mrs. Ames' Rhubarb Patch

Photo Copyrighted. Posted with permission of Clarence Tillenius

Story from the Autobiography of Clarence Tillenius

After being “willingly commandeered” to fight a big fire on the road to Dryden in the late spring, then “reluctantly commandeered” by Old Sam Ames to do some sheep-shearing, I felt I had a vacation coming. I was more than anxious to get back to MacDonald Lake and finish the cabin I was building with my partner Harold. However, I had reckoned without Old Sam, who waylaid me in the store when I was packing some comestibles into a packsack in preparation for heading towards MacDonald Lake.

Old Sam lost no time in coming to the point. "Mrs. Ames has always wanted some rhubarb in the garden" he said," and she tells me you know all about planting rhubarb. Why is it so hard to grow rhubarb? If you do know how, I want you as a favor to Mrs. Ames, to see that she gets some in the garden."

"Rhubarb isn't hard to grow", I said, "It's just that to get a good crop of rhubarb with big juicy stems instead of little spindly ones, you've got to prepare a rhubarb trench, and in this white clay soil which is just like concrete, that's a hell of a job!"

"But you know how to make a rhubarb trench, hey?" said Old Sam "Well, I'll give you Don here (his 15-year old son who had become one of my devoted followers) to help you if you'll contract to do it?" "Well,” I said, "it's going to mean digging a trench anywhere up to 4 feet deep and 2 feet wide and about 30 feet long, and in this ground that could take more time than I would propose to put in."

"Four foot trench, hey?" said Old Sam. "Well, now 'pears to me that that's a job that calls for a little blasting powder. Now, if you'll mark out where the trench ought to be, we'll just get a post-hole auger and sink a few holes down 4 feet and ol' dynamite will do the rest."

So Sam's conviction that I would do the job carried the day. Don and I, using narrow-bladed shovels, a pick and crowbars, dug the first pilot shaft 4 feet deep, 2 feet wide and about the same long. This was to mark the beginning of the trench, which Old Sam, true to his word, blasted out in a sort of irregular ditch, which we smoothed off, sides and bottom, to approximate the desired trench. "What now?” said Don. “Now we'll fill the trench," I said: "with alternate layers of manure and this white clay we've been throwing out. When that is well mixed, we should have a trench to the King's - or rather, the rhubarb's taste." Which we did, surprising Old Sam, who had made the journey to Dryden - or maybe Kenora - and brought back a dozen or so rhubarb roots to begin the long desired 'rhubarb garden'.