I'm getting a late start on our garden this year. Given I'm still unpacking the final boxes from our move, and trying to organize the house room by room, I've not had a lot of time or mental capacity to commit to planning our garden. Sadly, my original move in tactic of tossing boxes willy nilly and praying they'd unpack themselves, didn't work as planned. Now, I'm desperately trying to play catch up with trying to get seeds started, the land cleared, and garden planned and planted in what was once the former homeowner's pig pen. 
 I'm hopeful the soil will be magnificently fertile considering the former occupants, and the height of all the weeds and grass. But, given the consistency of the clay that's more or less parading itself as soil, that's to be determined. 
I firmly believe that children should get dirty on a regular basis. At least that's my excuse for my wild things.  And, that they know why and how things grow. All three were in and out of the garden over the course of the weekend, and we all learned a lot. 
We stopped and watched all manner of insects and spiders. We discussed topics such as soil needs, paired planting, and pollinators. We each took turns talking about which veggie or fruit we looked forward to eating most. And, then there are the things that were said that can't be unheard. Or, made up for that matter.
Here's just a smattering of my favorites from over the course of the weekend tending the garden and farm in general.
No! Chickens do not ride on goats! Put the chicken down.
I told you not to water Mama. I've already grown all I'm going to grow.
How can one little bitty wear so much mud? Isn't that heavy?
Well, it's not gardening till someone needs a tetanus shot. 
No, Goat Jumping isn't a thing. Only kids jumprope. No, not those kids. Never mind.
And, my personal favorite:
"We're going to build a lasagna garden."
            "Oh, I love lasagna! Wait! How does lasagna grow? I thought it was made in the kitchen."

Some years ago, after my grandmother's death, I got a Big Idea. Well, that's what she always called my often crazy, half baked, delusions of grandeur.
I had an idea to showcase a handful of her old kitchen gadgets I came to possess. I originally thought to do a picture of her, some hand written recipes, and one of the gadgets, her biscuit cutter. But, then my idea got bigger.
See what she meant?
Then I decided to showcase a gadget from other equally important loved ones. My granny and aunts from all around. And, my precious mother-in-law.
I beamed on the inside at my vision of glassless shadow boxes holding these dear and daily handled items. Salty tears of equal parts sadness and joy fell because while I couldn't hold some of their hands anymore, I could hold onto something that their hands held nearly every day.
My hands holding the very handles theirs did as they prepared meals to feed generations. My fingers fitted to the cold, smooth roundness of the biscuit cutters that helped me get my belly's fill of chocolate and biscuits. The memories of a childhood that felt like a lifetime using that green handled ice cream scoop. No birthday party was complete without it. The canning funnels that I have from each, my granny and my grandma, that had countless quarts and pints of preserved hard work pass through. These are the kind of memories these tools were made for.
I can hear Grandma's voice once more, "Laurie Ann, what do you want with those old things hanging on the wall? You and your big ideas." Yup. Exactly the kind of memories these tools were made for.
​

And, while my original vision won't fit the wall space I have to work with, I think I've come to a compromise I can live with. Only thing left to do now is buy some trim to frame that compromise. Well, and should probably also find a solution to keep them more firmly in place. Oh, and how to wall mount her ancient waffle iron. But, details, details.
Remember, it's not fully my Big Idea unless it's half baked. ​