After a spate of cloudy days (well, okay, like 3 cloudy days), the sunshine came out this morning, and we were all prancing about outside like we'd be holed up inside for months.
"Isn't it a beautiful day?" Jules said as we walked down our driveway.
"It is!" agreed Sydney. And then, naturally, I had to start singing. Because that's the kind of crazy girl I am. I have to sing when I'm happy or...well, you don't even want to know what happens.
Oh what a beautiful mor-ning! Oh what a beautiful day!
I've got a beautiful feeeeeling! Every things goin' my way.
I do love me some Oklahoma on a sunny morning.
Then I remembered that my dad had asked me to weed the corn--we have five pretty little rows of corn--so, I grabbed the quilt, a few baby toys, and plopped Addie down next to the garden while I hoed the weeds out of the corn.
I didn't actually get all the weeds out because I need to go through and handpick around the stalks of corn, a job I couldn't quite do because Addie had decided she didn't want to sit on the quilt, she wanted to take a nap on my back in the Ergo. So, jobs that require leaning over had to be postponed.
After I was done weeding, I was feeling so productive that I thought the squash needed weeding. And then I saw that blueberries needed weeding. Oh, and the raspberries. And, while I was at it, I better do the blackberries too.
That weeding the garden business is a slippery slope.
I decided that it was high time I figured out how to use a weedeater. I'm sure I've done some before, but not in many years. And definitely not with my parents' super duper weedeater that would no doubt rip your toe off if you weren't careful (and, actually, it would take a lot of effort to get your toe off because you don't hold a weedeater down at your feet).
My mom gave me a little lesson on how to start the weedeater, and told me several times to make sure I was wearing safety glasses. She did not, however, mention that I probably shouldn't be wearing shorts and flip flops.
I started up the weedeater.
I tried out a little patch of grass in the yard to see if I could do it.
I felt confident.
I went to the garden and zzzzzzzzzzzzzip! Oh no! I accidentally chopped down three raspberry vines (that had berries on them! so sad!). I turned the weedeater to the other side, and zzzzzzzzzzzzzip! Yikes! A five foot high thistle was flung towards my legs. Iturned the weedeater back the other way, and zzzzzzzzzzzip! Ouch! Wet grass traveling at approximately 120 miles per hour flew into my face, my arms, my toes.
I get itchy just thinking about it.
I put down the weedeater. I walked back to my house and picked up my common sense along the way. I returned to the garden wearing my stripey rainboots, bright blue sweatpants, a pink hat, and an old brown shirt. And then I prayed that no one other than family would see me. (No one did.)
A couple hours later, I was hot and covered in grass and thistles and tiny little plants. But! I had weedeated the raspberries, blackberries and blueberries.
It was hard work. And I'd be lying if I didn't make everyone on the farm come out to the garden and admire my handiwork. "Look! Look what I did! I did that! Isn't it pretty?" The hard work was totally worth it though because those berries will be so good.
Good thing those weeds are gone forever. That would sure be a pain to have to weed them again next week.