Cotton, soybeans, rye, corn, peanuts...
those are our primary crops. Those are the crops I think of when I think of farming in southeastern Virginia.
But a few weeks ago, my husband announced it was time to harvest the trees in front of our house.
I reacted as if someone had just yanked the shower curtain open just as the water was getting nice and warm.
What would I do for privacy?
Mercy... I might as well be parading down the road in my unmentionables.
My children... well, my children acted as though we were cutting down their playground.
We appealed. We whined a little.
Okay, a lot.
We asked lots of questions hoping that would make him want to forget he'd ever seen a tree in his entire life.
Finally, we all put our slightly odd issues aside - it was time to harvest. After all, that's what we do. We plant and then we harvest. And we do a lot of praying and hoping along the way.
So this particular harvest is done. And I can see lights along the road that make me jump a little because I think someone is driving up the lane.
And those poor, heartbroken children?