We have pecan trees, and several of them, they are glorious, some cast much needed shadows and shade onto the house, while others stand tall and mighty in our side yard. They provide a place to hang a rope for the kids to swing on, some much needed limbs to use in the barbecue, and now...pecans. Last year was very sparse in their production, but this year, wow, pecans everywhere. It took a few days for them to really start falling. When I looked into the tree, I could see them, but couldn't get any. We had a very windy day yesterday which brought a lot of the pecans down to the grown so I decided to venture outside with the girls and collect a few.
I gathered the girls and a bucket and set off, not that it was far, but sometimes with two small children, it can be a difficult trek. When we first set off the girls were great, the baby lingered behind just a little bit, but once I gave her a bucket, she was fine and helpful. My oldest was a huge help. She would run up behind me, tug on my shirt and tell me she got a "con". That's what she called the pecans, just shortened it and added an "o", but it is seriously adorable. That lasted about five minutes. All was going great, until the baby decided that she didn't want to look for the objects of the ground, that is boring. She wanted to play on the play scape, and do other more interesting things. So I would gather her back into my arms, get her back under the tree, capture a few of the pecans to put into the bucket, then chase after the baby, this went on for about fifteen minutes, I did not want to give up. Then my husband saw my desperate attempt to gather these pecans and decided to take the baby off my hands.
It went wonderfully, my oldest and I picked through the grass searching for these little treasures. She would come running to me every few seconds proclaiming that she had a "con", I would praise her great achievement, and we did this until we got this: