Wow! My week is starting out right! I opened my email to find a guest contributor for the blog today - right as I am off to hit my new treadmill! I have a new post almost ready for publication, plus 2 in the works, but none are ready for Monday.
I have to agree with my dear friend, Dee. Nothing is more satisfying than bunches of black bags filled with weeds and clean, beautiful flower beds just outside the window. I am adding a huge grin to my face as I anticipate gazing on her lovely beds (in person) 2 WEEKS from yesterday! In the meantime, though, I have to laugh. She's right, you know, for I am well acquainted with all 4 characters in the story and she has described them to a T!!
THE BIG DIG
I declared Saturday, July 5 to be the Big Dig Weed Picking Day. I hate digging weeds. Yet I love the end result of the weed digging. No one in my family likes digging weeds. It hurts. It is no fun. I'm praying my children do so well in life that they can hire yard help so they will be able to choose whether or not they want to dig their own weeds as adults.
The event was actually born out of a Boy Scout project. The seventeen year old has yet to complete all requirements to get the Eagle Award, so this fit into the Family Life project. Perfect. An excuse to make everyone pull weeds disguised as a worthy cause. Of course I capitalized on the idea.
I was the first out to weed at 8:30 a.m. (It's July in Texas; must be done by noon to avoid heat stroke.) Shortly after came my 11 year old daughter. She is the biggest weed whiner of them all, so I was shocked to see her. Hubby came next, then the seventeen year old, who had some distraction inside. Hubby started in quickly with offering to start mowing. No dice, Honey, we're weeding. Then he offered to "weedeat" the weeds. I explained that the last time he did that they were back in the beds in 10 days. That simply lops off the tops. (His other m.o. is to get out the Roundup and squirt.) We need to all actually DIG weeds today, not just ME digging the weeds. The mowing and weedeating would follow, time permitting. Next, the eleven year old talked up a storm while gingerly stabbing at some weeds. Par for the course. The seventeen year old, my firstborn and cut from my mold, worked hard.
After a while I saw Hubby and Eleven in the very back bed in the shade, sitting in beach chairs, chatting and digging, because life is a party for those two. Meanwhile, Seventeen and I made it around to the other three sides of the yard in full sun, sweating and digging, climbing, squatting, bending, killing ourselves. When we finished, we headed to the back bed, and the other two were so proud of themselves for their work. I pointed out that it was a good thing someone had been bagging leaves in that back bed, or there would be many many more! Oh? You've bagged leaves in the past 3 years? Hard to tell. Thank you, Darling!
By 10:45 Hubby and Eleven were off to the golf course for an appointment to fit her for a driver. The rest of the work remained for Seventeen and me. My back hurt, I was drenched with sweat, and I was ready to be done. But we rallied and bagged three more bags of leaves and clippings, even when he thought it was good enough. I must instill a work ethic in these children! We hit the showers at noon.
Tonight, there are 9 black bags at my curb; seven came from the back yard. My fingers tips are still sore, and I feel like I've been at a session of boot camp. I think the original purpose of the boy-led project was somewhat lost; however, Mama is happy.
1 comment:
Finally, you're back. Even if part of it is from a guest contibutor. I loved the weed pulling Family Life project. What a good idea. I just need a boy scout here. She must be a good motivator to be able to get her daughter and husband to help with the weeding. That truly is a difficult feat most of the time. It is a great joy to be able to look around and see the product of all that hard work and just think of all the great exercise they got that day. No need to work out on the treadmill.
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