A Pile of Weeds

Here's to summer weeding!  When I was a girl I was often assigned by my dad to weed our lawn.  We were to pull out weeds by the roots.  We couldn't let them snap and break and leave the root behind.  I think my dad was trying to keep us busy with something productive, but it seemed endless and very difficult for me to see the fruit of my labors.  So my first experiences with weeding were somewhat disheartening.  I don't remember weeding our garden when I was a girl and I wonder why not.  Then when I married Dad and learned that there was weed and feed type of fertilizers or other types of sprays for lawns I felt so liberated!  Who knew?

 As a busy mother of many young children I often was excluded from yard work because I had a nursing baby or because I was preparing some elaborate home cooked meal.  I feel I shortchanged myself during some of those years.  What's wrong with toasted cheese sandwiches on store bought bread and tomato soup?  Maybe I did need a nap, but why not bring the baby outside to nurse?  Live and learn.  I know Dad was trying to be sensitive to my physical and emotional needs. So here I come at the 11th hour to build weeding memories.  Esther and James are beneficiaries of weeding alongside of mom.

This is a pile pulled out from the strawberries.  There is something quite satisfying about seeing a pile of weeds.  It's like cleaning through a junky drawer or messy garage and having a load for goodwill or the dump.  We learn from scripture that the earth was cursed with weeds for our sake, for our own good.  The opposition of this world gives us growth.

Here is a bowl of strawberries picked from the same area where I pulled all the weeds.  Actual fruit of my labors.