I recruited a crew of rock-picker-uppers on Saturday. I invited some of my very favorite people.
We covered a lot of ground that day. Here we are in what used to be a pasture/old homestead that we converted into row crop a year or two ago. Each year, more debris comes to the top. So it was our job to clean it up.
And I feel like we did a pretty nice job. Think of all the rocks we saved from running through the combine or chopper! That would have been quite a repair bill…
After we finished the first field, we moved on to another one. We changed from the pickup to the Kubota for this field.
Abby and Tate drove while Cody and Rhett walked along and picked up rocks. (And I stood around and took pictures and sipped my lemonade. Someone’s got to do it!)
And so our day went. We got A LOT of work done and I couldn’t have asked for a better crew. They were hard workers with great attitudes. They took a fairly unpleasant job and turned it into fun. We might make this a weekly event! Lol.
Picking up rocks reminds me of when we used to help Grandpa Elton pick up rocks. I’m afraid I wasn’t near as exciting a foreman as Grandpa Elton was. See, he would hitch up the mule wagon when we picked up rocks. And you want to talk about exciting, imagine climbing into an old buckboard-type wagon behind a pair of fresh mules and heading out across the plains. WHEW!
There was one time I remember that the mules got away from us and went FLYING down the hill. I mean we were booking. I thought I was going to die. I was sure we were going to careen off the bridge at the bottom of the hill and plunge over the side to our death. As we went barreling down the hill, I sprawled out on the bottom of the wagon, squeezed my eyes shut to avoid the reality of the situation, and braced myself for the impact. Just when I thought I was a goner, the mules hit the bridge at full gallop and sailed across. Hallelujah! We made it!
Then Grandpa got them lined out as if nothing had happened and we went on to pick up a wagon full of rocks. I wish I could say that that was the only time anything crazy like that happened, but it wasn’t. Anytime Grandpa and the mule wagon were involved, there was excitement. Oh the memories. Thankfully we lived to tell about them.
So I’m afraid I did my kiddos a disservice by subjecting them to a calm, methodical day of picking up rocks. I could probably recruit even more volunteers if I could find a team of mules and a wagon. But I don’t think I’m that brave.
Have a great day!