Friday, April 15, 2011

The Golden Egg, Aunt Pug, Slave Labor, and a Dog

 That should sum it all up I suppose.  Wait?  You need more details...okay, fine.  You know I'm a girl of few words....but I'll try....

This weekend Jeff's mama's church had an Easter Egg hunt, so the whole gang piled into the "Robinson pew" as it's lovingly called there, sang a bunch of Easter hymns, ate our weight in casseroles and puddings afterwards, then geared up for the big hunt!  Which was more like a scramble!  They were everywhere!

Miss Rani's bucket was overflowing within 2 minutes, and had to keep dumping eggs in her brother's bucket so she could keep going!
 While brother Garrett still tried to figure this whole egg thing out....
 Big brother Jake was off with the bigger kids hunting, but I managed to grab Adam and Jennifer for a quick family picture.
 Now this doll face cousin Abigail was off hunting diligently the whole time, I could hardly catch her on the camera....she had her eye set on the prize!  And now I see why!  "Look Miss Jennifer, I got the Golden Egg!"  And you know what's in a golden egg, don't you?  Cold.Hard.Cash. 
 The three stooges, er, I mean, brothers, did a great job holding the tables and chairs in place while we all ran around with cameras.  Good job, boys!
 After the Egg Hunt, we did a quick wardrobe change and ran over to the Party House for Aunt Pug's 75th Birthday Party!  (Aunt Pug is Jeff's Daddy's sister....not that I think you'll ever meet her, but I'm having to draw a family tree, people, there's a lot of Robinson's around here!)

 We loved looking at all these good-looking pictures someone put together of Aunt Pug!  So fun!
 And as usual, most of our time was spent rocking on the porch of the PH, and Rani found her favorite spot in the lap of Uncle Jeff!

We followed Garrett and Granddaddy's (ADORABLE) lead and hit the road after a while....there was work waiting for us back at the house....the kind I'd been dreading....manual labor....

So back on the ranch....haha....

It didn't take long for us to change into "yard clothes" and get to work!  We had a garden to plant!  I'm so stinkin' excited about this, I've never had a garden!  I'm excited to be able to cook with the vegetables and herbs that comes from plants and seeds I've grown myself, I think it'll be so rewarding!
But....good grief....the work!  It all started with my sweet thang (who really was a stanky thing by the end), an orange tractor, and a heaping pile of cow....well, fertilizer.  The kind money can't buy.  My veggies will be fertilized with nothing but the best thanks to all the moo cows they've got out here.  (
So Jeff tossed it around with some regular soil, got the "fertilizer" good and mixed, and dumped it in each of our planting beds he's build.  Next came the crappy part (no pun intended).  We hoed, and tilled, and scraped and raked and whatever else you do to make it as smooth as possible.  This was back-breaking work, people. 
But then, we got all our little plants out of their containers, and popped them in the ground, tucked all the soil neatly back around them, and gave them their first bath.
Then I got down eye level with my zucchini squash and gave them their first parental pep talk.  I told them they will have good days and bad, storms will come and go, beware of ducks and chickens and goats.  I also told them I brought them into this world, and I fully intend to take them out.  So grow, grow, GROW!
I had similar words with the rosemary, mint, parlsey, and basil.  (And may I give a shout to the mint-whoop whoop!  He's already contributed to an excellent mojito on my behalf!)

We drank from the hose like kids, and relished in our accomplishment.  In several weeks we'll have yellow squash, zucchini, tomoatoes, jalapenos, bell peppers, banana peppers, okra, green beans, and watermelon!
And like the supervisor he is, Roscoe obediently rode the tractor, operated the lift, brought us shovels, cold drinks, the water hose, kept the cows away, answered the phone....basically all the things you need in an assistant when we are working our fingers to the bone. 

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