Cucumbers & Thighs

On any given night you might find us in the garden at my parent's house.

My parents plant a huge garden every year.

Huge.  I mean really HUGE.

I don't have a picture of the whole garden to prove it, but suffice it to say that it could supply a small village with enough corn, squash, tomatoes, and cucumbers to last a year.

I might be exaggerating, slightly.  I tend to do that.

Really, though, there are a lot of plants.

Plus some watermelon, peppers, and cantaloupe just for fun.

Every year, they talk about planting a smaller garden the next year, but for some reason,

it keeps getting bigger every year.

I'm not sure they understand downsizing.

Not only do they grow too many plants, but the plants are gargantuan.

Is that a real word?

Yep, it's a real word, just looked it up.

It means "Huge, Colossal, Gigantic, Mammoth, Monstrous, and Titanic."

Yes, all those words would apply as well.

Proof that horse manure is fantastic fertilizer.

Anyhow, this GARGANTUAN garden works well for me because I am not what you might consider a "gardener" or a "farmer."  Sure, I like to plant pretty flowers and plants, but vegetables are definitely NOT my thing.  Can't really explain it because my sisters are both into the whole garden thing.

Me?  I'm more like the lazy animals in the Little Red Hen story.

I like to skip the planting, and watering, and harvesting, and preparing parts,

and skip right to the eating part.

I think they might be trying to train Laci early.

Before she realizes that she still gets to eat the goods even if she doesn't contribute.

So far, she is only minimally interested.

Taking a cucumber OUT of the bag.

Falling in a ditch.

I can hear my mom's voice now as I'm looking at this picture,

"Tonya, she's falling down."

Me replying, "Yeah, I know, but I'm taking her picture."

Tasting a cucumber.

This is after she already bit a chunk out of one fresh from the garden,

peel, spines, and everything.

It is so weird to think that a year ago, she wasn't even here with us.

And now, she's just walking around eating cucumbers.

How does this happen?

And she refuses to look at me most of the time.

Dried up weeds are obviously much more interesting.

As are water faucets.

Hello?  Remember me?

I'm your mother?  I gave birth to you?

Hey!  I want to take your picture! 

Fine then, I'll take a picture of your chunky little legs.

I'll tease you about them when you grow up and complain about your thighs.

But, really, I love your little chunks,

and I wish you'd stop walking so they'd stay chunky.