My dad commented today that he uses my blogging activity as a measure of my general busy-ness. Fairly regular posts mean things are more or less under control. The schedule I have been maintaining lately clearly indicates that I am overwhelmed by my to-do list.
He has it just about right.
I find that summer is like our vegetable garden. It starts out all neat and tidy, with good intentions and grand plans in abundance. But then things progress, and before I know it, my furniture is covered in dust an inch thick, and the green beans are taking over the basil patch, and the laundry is behind again, and the weeds are rampant, and junk and clutter are just about everywhere, and the tomatoes are absolutely out of control.
That’s not to say that fruit isn’t being borne, in every sense of the word. The boys are having a great, old-fashioned summer of hanging out and swimming (thanks to a friend’s pool) and going to 4-H shows and camping and all the other activities that make summer so sweet. All that junk around the house? It’s mostly composed of ribbons they won at fairs, and books and magazines they are reading, and instruments and music they are playing, and toys and art supplies they are using. I am trying hard to feel blessed, and not let it bug me too much, while doing my best to keep a loose lid on it. (I’m not really succeeding on that front.)
The abundance of the garden has seeped over into their own plans. I am not complaining, as the activity does not involve TV or the X-Box.
They have started a farmstand.
They worked very hard at picking, and pricing, and arranging their wares just so. They have a whole system set up for reusing the containers. Since part of all their proceeds will be donated to their 4H club, they have been keeping detailed logs and posting their progress on the front of the table.
Unfortunately, despite the prime location by LSH’s parking lot, few buyers have materialized yet. The older two are away at camp this week, and I received detailed instructions in how to keep the stand to their specifications. Unfortunately, business has further suffered in the absence of hopeful-looking boys stationed by the table. I might have to stage an intervention before they return this weekend, just to make sure they stay interested in this particular project.
Hey, it's keeping them occupied and out of trouble. At this point in the summer, that's the best that can be hoped for, along with a futile wish that the tomatoes somehow stop producing quite so much.