Over the past two years, Husband has grown the size of our yard, slowly but surely. Our house sets a good ways off the road on a ten acre plot of ground his grandfather gave us. Eventually we should have 40 acres, but that's quite a few years down the road.
When we first put in the house, Husband started putting up electric fence to keep the yard & pasture separate. Since he's been thinning the herd (we're down to one cow, three pygmy goats, and four sheep), he's taken space away from the pasture & added it to our yard. One big addition is the flat land on the East side of our little pond. Last year he decided the FarmHands had to have a kick ball diamond...so he mowed one for them in that flat spot.
Sunday night B.B. went to a church picnic with Uncle E's family. When Beffie, J, and Beffie's boy friend brought him home, Husband lured them out to the ball diamond. The boy friend said, "Wow! Who does this kind of stuff? I'd have loved a kick ball diamond in my own yard when I was little!" He, Beffie, and I watched while Husband, J, and the FarmHands played a quick game of kick ball.
If you're ever bored of an evening & want to watch something funny, you should come watch my kids try & play kick ball. I guarantee at least one screaming fit, tears, laughter, a total disregard for any rules, a fist fight or two over who's turn it is to kick the ball, someone peeing in the out field, B.B. stealing bases constantly, and Bitsy running randomly around bases squealing at the top of her lungs.
2 comments:
What? Aren't those the standard kick ball rules?
Lucky Farmhands! Sounds like fun. :)
Post a Comment