The goat went bananas. It burst into a run, rushing around the overgrown yard, leaping in the air at erratic intervals. It rushed off into the treeline, looking for... a river maybe?
Letting himself still, Joe listened, the gentle chirp of birds in the late afternoon sun came strongly. A babbling in the distance, that was probably where the goat was headed. A nearby river would decrease his reliance on the hand pump.
The trees swayed in a gentle breeze, and Joe raised the cup to his lips, taking a sip.
He savoured it, hunger was the best spice after all, and lack of caffeine made that first hit even better. Notes of cherries were present though the flavour was a little more bitter than he'd been aiming for. None the less, it was magical, enjoying his first coffee in this new world. He let the coffee's warmth settle in his stomach, and it seemed to spread up to his solar plexus.
He breathed in and out, letting his breath flow.
'You've gotta circulate to percolate.' He whispered, his old mentor's advice coming to him.
The warmth in his chest moved with his breath, spreading out to his limbs slowly. Joe took another sip and gazed across his new home.
The yard was flat but the overall terrain he'd bought was on a slope. That wasn't too problematic, most coffee crops were grown on sloping terrain, apart from in Brazil. Brazil produced over forty percent off the world's coffee crop both due to the countries massive size and the fact that they could use mechanised harvesting on flat terrain.
He would be doing hand picking of the coffee tree cherries. Again, that was fairly common and although time intensive they would have bigger problems.
He patted the roasted beans in one pocket, and the unroasted beans in the other. The pile of roasted beans had dramatically decreased with his afternoon cuppa.
He had beans for planting, he had land at about the right elevation for the arabica beans. If he'd had robusta he could have stopped lower down the mountain for planting. Looking down the path he'd climbed he frowned, he'd barely broken a sweat climbing all that height?
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Vigor of youth he supposed?
Still even if he planted the beans now, it would take three to four years to have cherry producing trees. Three to four years was a long time and he'd run out of roasted beans in a week or so. Three to four years of no coffee for him and no income for the farm. He'd have to look into running some other crops or livestock.
He could probably grow some black pepper, oranges or vanilla at this height no trouble. He felt reluctant already to herd goats for meat, but perhaps he could collect their wool or run some ship. No reason he couldn't run some cattle up here as long as he kept them away from the coffee trees.
After all, he might drink long blacks, but the overwhelming majority of people wanted milk with their coffees.
He started scratching out a mental to-do list.
1) Meet the neighbours, see what they are growing [ ]
2) Establish supply of food [ ]
3) Clear the yard and prepare the ground for planting [ ]
4) Improve the shack [ ]
5) Work out plumbing and heating [ ]
He scratched his chin. Number five was going to take a bit longer. He had done some engineering in relation to how espresso machines worked, as they'd tried to optimise their processes. He knew how to get the perfect temperature to run hot water through coffee grounds so he supposed working out plumbing and a shower could be done.
He just didn't have electricity.
Hmmm....looks like it was cold river bathing and buckets for a while.
Still, he could probably view it as Wim Hof breathing. People paid through the nose for that kind of treatment back in his old world. He paused, already feeling like parts of his old life were dreams. Best to keep busy and not focus too much on that.
The goat bleated and gave him a sour look, as if hearing his thoughts on goat herding. It chewed on a piece of grass, eyed him warily and slid the tin can across to him. It was grumpy, having only just had its coffee after all, and...
Joe smiled. 'I know what we'll call you.'
Joe poured another cup into the goat's tin can and slid it halfway across to him. The goat eyed it warily, sniffed and sat on its haunches, waiting.
Joe nodded, eyeing the yard. 'We've got a bit of work ahead of us. We'll need to build a strong foundation, with hard work. Only once we've cleared all the weeds and made this place healthy, can we get to planting. You reckon you can help me with that?'
The goat looked at Joe, with uncommon intelligence in its eyes. It took the tin can in its mouth and raised it for a careful sip. It placed it back down and nodded. It leaned over and bit into one of the weeds, chewing for all it was worth.
Joe chuckled. 'I think you and me are going to get along just great, Gruff.'
Joe looked across his field and up at the sun. Still some time in the day, and he had two hands. No sense letting Gruff do all the weeding. He went back to the shack, found a pair of gloves, and got into it.