Weeding! That is what Gene and I have been doing since April 12, 2014. My journal reads "Test Block: one row of 'Grosso" weeded. My final entry thus far, May 26, reads "finished weeding"... Only, I'm not finished weeding. The Test Block is being overrun again with weeds! Noxious weeds, obnoxious weeds; long taproot, spreading, flowering, "growing like weeds" weeds. Those weeds that take a hole three feet deep and five feet across to extricate the weed along with its roots and those weeds that, if you break off one little microcosm of a branch will spread like wildfire. There are those weeds who, when you are removing it, spread thousands of little winged replicas of itself and those who, when you barely touch it, will shake loose its thousands of seeds. God did say to go forth and multiply but.... weeds! (God, we need to talk: why all of them growing in my lavender!)
Gene and I get up between 5:30a.-6a; drink our coffee and plan our day--as if we don't know what we already know we are going to be doing--which is weeding! We come in around 7p and look at what was accomplished. We smile with what strength is left at each other, compliment each other for a job well done, take a shower, eat, take in the weather and "hit the hay" (go to bed)... and start all over in the morning. Weeding did bring back wonderful memories, though, of when I was a little girl and my mom's family would bring in the hay from Grandpa McKenna's field. Grandpa would rake the hay into rows when the time was right; then, his children and their children--family--would go up to the hayfield and help bring the hay into the barn. I remember when I was finally old enough to rake the hay into shocks and dad giving me instructions: go about 1/3 way down the raked row of fresh smelling hay, take the pitchfork and put it into a small pile of hay, then put another pile on top of that--careful not to leave any of the hay--until a nice, rounded shock of hay was created. Then, finish each row and start on the next row until the work was done. As the hay was being shocked, Grandpa and the men loaded the hay onto a trailer and hauled to the barn. If we did a good job, we were allowed to sleep in the barn on the loose hay. (I don't ever remember not being able--the whole family--to sleep in the hay.) I loved sleeping in the hay when it was loose. Nothing smelled as sweet as newly-mown hay. We kids could play hide n' seek, make tunnels, slide down mounds. It was the best place to be in the whole world. (It was Gene raking the weeds from between the rows and me loading it with a pitchfork onto the bucket of the tractor that somehow reminded me of haying). Gene then piled the weeds into quite a stack and, hopefully, this winter we will be able to burn it; right now,the weather is too dry to burn. The weeds have a sicky smell to them when you walk by them... not at all like the wonderful smell I remember inside Grandpa's barn.
 |
| "Test Block"after weeding the first time looking west towards "Block A" and "Block B" |
 |
| "Test Block" with more weeds about 2-1/2 weeks after weeding. |
While I was grumping and groaning about the weeds and having to start again in the Test Block, a beautiful doe came silently into the Test Block and started munching on the weeds. O.K., God, I guess we don't have to have our talk after all. A picture is worth a thousand words... and I just got the picture.
 |
...and this is why God made weeds...
|
No comments:
Post a Comment