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Walnut pickin’

Around these parts money does grow on trees.walnutblack

In the form of walnuts.

And this year you can get $13 for every 100 pounds of those aromatic, green balls.

We pick every year. Some years more than others. And when I say “we” I mean mostly Matt.

He had a great (italicized to emphasize my sarcasm) idea earlier this week.

Matt: “I’ve got a surprise for you?!”

Me: “Really? Tell me now.” (I’m not a fan of surprises due to ongoing control issues.)

Matt replies excitedly: “I’m going to take off work on Thursday and WE are going to pick walnuts ALL DAY!” (Capitalization emphasizes his genuine joy over his great idea.)

Me: crickets.

Thursday arrived on schedule. Like always.

I decided (like the fool I am) to begin the new 60-minute daily workout regime my trainer encouraged me to do TODAY. Which is Thursday.

So when his truck horn beckoned me to get in the truck “and hurry up about it,” I dragged my Jell-O arms and legs outside along with a bad attitude and two bottles of water. (If you don’t remember why I’m obsessed with water right now, click here.)

Fifteen minutes in, and I couldn’t even summon the strength to roll the picker so I began to crouch and pick by hand.

Matt turned up his truck radio to drown out the whiny cries of pain as I picked up each little green ball of fun.

Then the cows showed up. They thought my bucket was full of feed and they were HUNGRY! And to make matters worse, Matt wasn’t satisfied with the already downed walnuts so he started to shake branches (without informing his walnut slave helper who was busy keeping one eye open so she wasn’t trampled by hungry cows while crouching to pick walnuts!).

He thought it was funny to see me run and dodge and scream and so the branch shaking lasted longer than it should have.

One hour and 15 minutes later I quit.

I sat on the up-ended walnut bucket and complained and watched YouTube videos on my phone.

Then the water kicked in. So my complaining intensified in severity and volume enough that Matt finally decided to bring me back to the house so he could pick in peace.

I thought that was a GREAT idea!

Categories: Life on the farm


My name is Ginia Oehlschlager and I'm a small-town gal from Missouri. Join me as I document my crazy life on the farm with my husband and four kids. I'm always looking for frugal, simple ways to live the life God set before me. Where faith, family and fun come together on the farm.

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