Harvesting..... just nothin' like it. Early in the morning, before my eyes are completely opened, hair and teeth are brushed, or before I've changed my clothes from whatever I slept in the night before, I'm out in the garden looking for edible treasures.
Picking fruit or veggies I've grown myself, is like a "grown-up's" Easter egg hunt I get to enjoy all during the growing season. I think I get just as excited picking those bright orange habaneros as I did picking up that new found, colored, boiled egg my mama would excitedly hide at the base of an old oak tree, nestled in between the surface root and the new spring grass.
Just can't help but smile as I carry in my African baskets full of brilliantly colored edibles, from right off the vine.
But then comes the daunting reality of cleaning, chopping, peeling, canning, freezing, dehydrating or cooking the beautiful abundance I have now spread so picturesque-like all over my kitchen counter.
Work, work, work. There's no easy way to describe what lies ahead, after my giddy morning of harvesting my colorful produce. Yes, hours of work.
Hmmm, maybe that's why the laborers are few come Harvest time. I sure love a big harvest, but I'm not always willing to bring it in, clean it and work with it. I guess Jesus knew what he was talking about after all. *chuckling to myself* I smile as I think of that scripture in Matthew, then wash my hands and get to work.
Picking fruit or veggies I've grown myself, is like a "grown-up's" Easter egg hunt I get to enjoy all during the growing season. I think I get just as excited picking those bright orange habaneros as I did picking up that new found, colored, boiled egg my mama would excitedly hide at the base of an old oak tree, nestled in between the surface root and the new spring grass.
Just can't help but smile as I carry in my African baskets full of brilliantly colored edibles, from right off the vine.
But then comes the daunting reality of cleaning, chopping, peeling, canning, freezing, dehydrating or cooking the beautiful abundance I have now spread so picturesque-like all over my kitchen counter.
Work, work, work. There's no easy way to describe what lies ahead, after my giddy morning of harvesting my colorful produce. Yes, hours of work.
Hmmm, maybe that's why the laborers are few come Harvest time. I sure love a big harvest, but I'm not always willing to bring it in, clean it and work with it. I guess Jesus knew what he was talking about after all. *chuckling to myself* I smile as I think of that scripture in Matthew, then wash my hands and get to work.
