Opening day of deer season began rainy and yucky. Did it stop anyone from going hunting? Nope.

Fortunately the rain tapered off (even though it was about 100 degrees - whew!) and I could bring Peanut out for a visit.

Did you know REAL hunters wear pink?

They do.

Our two oldest girls spent most of the day hunting with the Cotton Husband. CH used to hunt alone… having the freedom to go wherever he liked… say whatever he liked. Oh, how things have changed!

I think he likes it that way though. He gets to impart his knowledge and wisdom to a new generation (are you all laughing yet?).

When it got dark outside, I kept looking for them to come home. I should have known better. They’d been sucked in by “The Lodge”, as the hunt club is affectionately known. Truth be told, it’s just an old hog house that the guys fixed up (a little). It’s a great place for children to play hide and seek, chalk on the concrete block walls and well… just be kids.

The big kids like The Lodge just as much as the little ones do. It’s a turn your cap around kind of place.

The Cotton Husband has been working from sunup whenever he finishes his stack of pancakes til well after sundown trying to get in the last acres of soybeans.

I told my friend Anna the other day that I was seriously considering disabling the headlights on the combine. Because you know… I totally know how to do something like that. Totally.

He claims he is trying to beat the rain.

But funny thing…

The calendar says that deer season begins on Saturday.

Hmmmm……

As you might recall from previous posts on peanuts (say that three times fast), it’s important to harvest when the peanuts are mature. Peanuts are usually “graded” much higher when picked at optimum maturity.

Sometimes this means that it gets late in the year and you’re also trying to beat the frost.

That’s where we found ourselves this year. This field at our Uncle Melvin’s farm was slow to ripen. Then we started to get frost on the ground in the mornings so we had to let them incubate in the ground until the next warm spell.

Peanuts and frost don’t get along.

Then… no matter what day it is - if the peanuts call out “Pick Me!!” - you gotta pick.

Don’t tell anyone but I took these photos on a Sunday. Mercy.

I know that the Cotton Husband will be glad to have his weekends free again but I don’t mind weekend harvesting.

It means that I get to be around to take purty pickshers.

It also means that our neighbors are at home and we get to talk while watching the menfolk work.

What? You thought we brought them baskets of fried chicken or something?

You’ve seen one too many movies about the Amish, I think.

CH: “Sugar! Come here and get a picture with the baby and Miss Bitty!!”

Me: “But she’s sitting on the ground. With no socks. And she doesn’t match at all. My mom will see these!!”

CH: “Oh, who cares. It’ll be so cute! Look how cute she is! Just take the pictures.”

Maybe we should have stopped talking and paid attention.

One would think that as busy as we are harvesting this time of year that we’d let Halloween sort of pass by without much thought.

But we found out a few years ago that people LOVE hayrides. Love ‘em, I tell ya.

So now we have a haunted hayride every year in October.

It’s not so scary.

The Cotton Husband and his friends spend the afternoon tying up my good white sheets in the trees…

and sticking our wooden cutout of a Colonial man in the woods (Frankly, that just makes everyone laugh).

One year they plopped rubber turkey decoys in the trees. And deer horns in the branches. Yeah - we really strive to terrify folks over here, y’all.

But one of the best parts is getting ready for the hayride. We’re all together… working to clean the house, making brownies and getting the yard ready for guests. And we’re throwing hay. There’s lots of throwing hay going on.