Hey folks and welcome back to another post. I’ve been farming on my days off, and boy! have we had beautiful weather for it. Normally you don’t get sunshine in Newfoundland unless you get wind, and that was the case these past four days. I’m not complaining though, as it kept the flies off of myself and my miniature army of farm-hands, aka three children that look like Hobbits from LOTR.
Buckle up, hang on, and enjoy another post from The Eason Clan!
🎶I Spin Those Weeds Right Round, Right Round🎶
Nothing gives a father more satisfaction than hearing your child let out grunts, yells and battle cries of hard work.
After planting five rows of carrot, beet, zucchini and butternut squash, I decided to take a short break, overlooking the lower field. Thankfully, we are blessed with three fields: the largest has 15 rows of about 100ft to 200ft rows, while the lower field has 10 rows of 100ft and the latest smaller field, has 10 rows around 50ft in length.
****I pause writing this blog now to put up my car window. I am by Quidi Vidi lake, and a mouthful of fresh grass just blew through my window from a town workers lawnmower… into my face. #BadSpotToParkFriday***
I love farming.
I hate weeding.
“Christian, hate is such a strong word! You strongly dislike weeds.”
I HATE weeds. Why? Because after you remove them, they just come back again! It’s like watching a horror movie in slow mo, it ain’t goin make it better.
Anyway, like I was saying. Weeding is not enjoyable, so this year I encouraged my three youngest children to help me weed and plant (my oldest is away on holidays).
“Child labour bro…Sketchy man.”
More like, teaching them valuable life skills.
After all, in this economy, growing your own food is the way to eat healthy and save money, plus we might all be riding horses in the near future.
Bring back… Little House On The Prairie! (Favourite show ever)
So here’s what happened.
Out came R, I and A (my children’s names in initial form) like Frodo, Sam and Pippin heading to second breakfast – eager as anything. R is tidy, clean and careful in the garden. She gracefully pulled the weeds from the soil, and packed them in a neat pile. Between her breaks, R would walk over to the shed, have a sip of water from her bottle, flex her pasty-white arm muscles, and go back to hauling up weeds.
For A, she decided she would haul up a weed, (singular now mind you) and then take a 15 minute break picking flowers.
Daddy’s Girl 🙂
Then came out the mini-gun.
The weed beast.
My youngest strut onto the field, holding a sand castle design, lime-green bucket and face of determination. Searching for his first victim, he grabbed the biggest, tallest weed he could find. Grasping it with two hands he let out a scream of champions, “YARRRRHHHHAAAA!” … and hauled up the weed.
Standing in the middle of the field, he turned and looked at me, holding the weed with a ball of dirt hanging from it like the barbarian chieftain from Gladiator, holding a Roman soldiers head.
He then let out this guttural cry,
…and flung the vanquished weed through the air, straight out of the field.
This kid means business.
With a grin, he walked to another row and did the same again…and again…and again.
Hurling weeds and dirt like a wild-man, screaming with each throw.
Watching my 3 year old destroying weeds became a bit creepy actually.
Reminds me of his twin sister who starts laughing uncontrollably when we’re having a staring contest – brown eyes wide, with loud deafening soundwaves emitting from her tiny mouth.
(I’m actually weirding myself out now…going to sleep with one eye open tonight.)
Planting Seeds and Farming with my Family
After we finished weeding the lower field, I started planting the small field with potatoes and turnip. My father walked up to the field, inspecting my work.
“Doing good pa, putting in the potatoes.” With that I started dropping them into a row, he instantly called out from behind me.
“You don’t plant them that far apart, see look.”
With that my dad took some of the potatoes, and using his right foot he dropped them in one foot intervals, lightly stepping on them and repeating the process. I watched as he made his way down the row, effortlessly placing the potatoes.
“Don’t step too hard on them.” he said.
With that I started another row, carefully following the advice of my father.
Reflecting on those moments – spending time with my family in the garden – I love that my Dad is around to pass on his knowledge of farming to me. At 32 years old, I’m still eager to learn new things, but it’s extra special when its from him. Then on top of that, I have my children together, learning new skills and learning what it means to work hard at something, and later reap the rewards.
Playing a game of LEGO WORLDS or Minecraft on XBOX One with them is fun, but it can’t replace being outdoors. Some things in life have to be fully interactive and hands on. So when we start harvesting the vegetables in the fall, I’ll remind my children like I do every year: “When you work hard at something, giving it your best, you’ll get rewarded.”
The reward could be monetary, something tangible or it could be the satisfaction of seeing you hard work come to fruition. Regardless of the outcome, nothing beats spending time with family.
Have a great weekend!
“Lazy people want much but get little; but those who work hard will prosper.”Proverbs 13:4 King Solomon
“…so I will work hard to make sure you always remember these things after I am gone.”2 Peter 1:15 – Peter