I made my chillens pull weeds on Friday. It was painful to watch. I could have weeded the flowerbed whilst holding Meny in a quarter of the time, but I was determined to let them do it. Apparently they thought you could stare the weeds out of the ground or complain them out of the ground. My daddy is now vindicated. He used to threaten to put a rope handle on my rake if I didn't quit leaning on it. I feel his pain. (I still insist that a rake with a rope handle would be no good to anybody, it makes no sense daddy!)
3 comments:
"(I still insist that a rake with a rope handle would be no good to anybody, it makes no sense daddy!)"
Man you really missed the boat on that one. Maybe he should have used a math analogy and you would have gotten it...
he wanted to put a rope handle on it so I wouldn't lean on it and go to work. BUT if it had a rope handle there would be no raking with it!!! danguh!
He wanted to put a rope handle on it so you COULDN'T lean on it! Then you would have to be the one to pick up the piles of leaves and put them in the bags. I HATE that job! I would much rather rake. MY daddy made it fun by putting the piles of leaves in the wheelbarrow, then letting us sit on top while he pushed the wheelbarrow to the burning pile. Yes, we had a burning pile even though we lived in the nicest suburbs (at that time) in Longview. Now I realize we were actually helping him by keeping the leaves from blowing or falling out. He liked to run the wheelbarrow to the leaf pile. He was always running. He used to teach us how to ride bikes by pushing us to the top of the street and then running down the hill by us. I couldn't make the turn once and hit the curb! I think I was five. Daddy was always trying to get me to pedal just a hard with my right leg as with my left.
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