Posted By FarmerJ on June 12, 2009

…on a toad.  Yes, a toad.  Our Lord has a marvelous sense of humor!

Most of you know by now of the farmstead gardening project we’ve taken on this summer.  I’ve been trying diligently to get all the plants and seeds into the ground, but the rain has moved in and doesn’t seem to want to leave.  It’s really put a damper on things ~ ya know, with the ground being soggy and all.

Well, I stupidly allowed someone to get under my skin and royally irk me.  Stupid, I say, because this person is not family ~ actually, not even someone I would consider a friend.  In hindsight, I see now the lesson God had in store for me, but at the time, I was somewhat hot under the collar.

What’s the most spirit-cleansing, stress-relieving activity for me on the farmstead?  That’s right!  Diggin’ in my dirt.  But, it’s awfully muddy out there.  I didn’t care.  I wanted to dig.  It would be a great opportunity to pray for His wisdom and grace to overcome the senseless desire to wop someone with a 2 x 4.  So, the hair went into the traditional workin’ ponytail, the nine-sizes-too-big coveralls went on and I was ready to dig.  Except it’s really muddy out there.  There was no way any closed toe shoes could have survived the experience.  But, feet can easily be washed!  I put on my old crusty flip flops and set out with garden spade and seed packets in hand ~ and Abigail in tow.

The garden plots are a thriving eco system.  The earthworms count one per square inch; the countless lady bugs are busy little divas; and, the ants and spiders scamper around in a flurry.  So, of course, you can expect to see the creatures higher up on the food chain ~ the birds, the toads and the snakes.  Well, the birds are obvious, but not so much when it comes to the toads and the snakes.  Still, I knew it would be just a matter of time before either I or Abigail came across one or the other.

It took me a few minutes to figure out how to float on the mud instead of sink into it.  My flips weren’t really flopping, but rather more squish squashing.  I was ecstatic about the holistic pedicure I was receiving.  I mean, people pay for mud packs and the like,  don’t they?

Truckin’ right along in my state of lessened fury ~ the Lord had already shown me the errors of my way and now I just had to eat my crow stew ~ I had completed planting one row of yellow crookneck squash and was ready to begin the row of zucchini.

That’s when it happened.  I was squish squashing my way back to the seed box to get the zucchini packet and stubbed my toe on something.  Thinking it was probably a mud clod, I paid it no attention.  Until I felt something again, except this time, I sort of kicked it with the top of my foot.  It caught my eye as it landed.  It was a big, fat, sassy happy toad ~ well, maybe he wasn’t so happy anymore since he had just been catapulted five feet through the air.

That’s all it took to get Abigail’s attention.  For her, the game was on.  She’d nudge that toad with her nose.  He’d hop.  She’d pounce.  If no hop followed, she’d nudge.  He’d hop.  She’d pounce.  She wasn’t harming him in any way ~ just being the ultimate nuisance to Mr. Toad.  Not wanting to have him toadally annoyed with us, I called Abby over to me and had her help me dig the holes for the seeds.  She’d dig one hole and get bored.  She was having much more fun with her new found playmate.

This routine carried on for the remaining four rows of various summer and winter squash.  Abigail and her friend were now clear across the yard and making their way to the shop area.  Nudge.  Hop.  Pounce.  Laughter.  I couldn’t help it.

The dirt had worked once again.  I went out there spittin’ nails, ticked off over something completely stupid, and the Lord had shown me I didn’t have it so bad.  After all, I hadn’t been sitting there minding my own business, lapping up bugs only to have some humanoid kick me in the ribs, punting me two rows over, only to then have Abigail the Toy Fox Terrorist terrorize me for what must have seemed like ten miles to that poor little toad.

Oy!  The hazards ~ and humor ~ and blessings ~ of farmin’ in flip flops.  ♥

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