Farmer Paul

Paul spent last week with my Uncle Keith and Aunt Leanna. It was Paul's first time away from home alone for an extended period of time.  He and Uncle Keith were constant companions as Paul learned a bit more about the vocation of farming, in which he as shown an interest. 

Before Paul left to go to the farm, his Grandpa Bob asked him if he was packed.  Paul said, "Well, I have my fishing pole."  Lest he forget the unimportant stuff, I made sure that Paul also packed clean changes of clothes and his allergy medicine.

Paul was so busy during his stay with my aunt and uncle that he didn't have time to talk with his mom and dad on the phone.  Every time we called to check on him, he was with Uncle Keith on the farm, or fishing at the local fishing hole.  So Uncle Keith and I communicated by text most of the week.

A few hours after Paul arrived, he talked Uncle Keith into taking him fishing.  Here's the picture Uncle Keith sent me with the caption, "A boy and his dreams!"

 A half an hour later, Uncle Keith sent this picture of Paul enjoying a bowl of ice cream (past his bedtime, I might add).  "Yes, Paul's decided the farming life's for him," the caption read.

I texted back (through tears), "I miss him already."

"I know.  We'll have the same thought when he leaves," Uncle Keith texted back.

The next evening, Uncle Keith sent the following picture with the caption, "Believe Paul is getting into this irrigation!"  (It had been 102 degrees that day.)

I texted back, "How's he doing?"

Then this picture came through.  "One picture worth a thousand words."

"Yes, it is," I texted.

Then Uncle Keith, "Believe he's doing pretty well actually.  He did a little tractor driving today.  Zyrtec on the menu and appears to be working.  Of course it might be the ice cream too!"
Then me, "Yes.  He may need a friendly reminder to put on clean clothes."  (I noticed in the picture that Paul was wearing the same clothes as the day before.)

"No problem.  We change once a week whether we need to or not.  Good honest sweat smells pretty good," Uncle Keith texted back.

Then me, "That's his motto."

The next afternoon, Uncle Keith sent me this picture:

He, Paul and Arie (the black lab) were at the local coffee house drive thru window.  Paul had a fruity drink in hand and Arie was waiting for her treat.  Apparently she gets a doggy biscuit every time she visits the coffee house.  The caption for this picture read, "Yep.  Farming's all work and no play."

The rest of our family joined Paul, Uncle Keith and Aunt Leanna on July 4th.  We met at the local park for a community picnic BBQ.  When Paul spotted Matt and me, he ran up to us and gave us each a big long hug.  So our boy missed us after all.  That evening, the kids had a blast with Pop-Its and Silly String.

 

We spent the rest of the weekend with my aunt and uncle and as usual, we received a good spoiling.  Lots of trips to the swimming pool, plenty of Schwan's ice cream (except for me--I'm on the gestational diabetes diet), German sausage, blena (German pancakes--I took one delectable bite--the self-control!), freshly smoked pork ribs (low carb--yay!), sewing lessons for the two older girls (courtesy of Aunt Leanna), fireworks at the high school football field, evening movies (including Lilies of the Field), driving lessons, farm field tours, garden tours with fresh kohlrabi tastings, hand weeding of the edamame bean field (only one row--I pulled the can't-weed-'cause-I'm-eight-months-pregnant card) and an evening at a farm with all kinds of animals.  The kids got to feed baby calves, see the biggest pigs ever, pet doggies and see plenty of horses, chickens and turkeys.

I had a chance to take a break from my nesting projects to enjoy a few uninterrupted afternoon naps, to watch my kids swimming at the pool and to read an actual book.  Yes, our family is seriously spoiled.  We are grateful that Uncle Keith and Aunt Leanna are so willing to disrupt their lives (not to mention the farm work) when our family comes to visit.  They are both gifts from God and we thank Him for them.