His name is Joe. As in Scarecrow Joe. Every scarecrow we've ever had has been named the same. Tradition or lack of originality, I guess. In years past we've went to Michael's and picked out just the right one, to sit in the rain and fade and look too shabby to put up next year. Attempting to be frugal, creative and find something for us to do this weekend, I went to the Internet searching for instructions. I found a fun website http://www.monkeysee.com/. It's a fun how-to website, with videos for those of us that learn by seeing not just reading. Then I went to the phone and called my parents. Not that they have a lot of old shabby clothes lying around waiting for some use, but hey, my Dad's a farmer, even though he lives on 1/10 of an acre. Once a farmer, always a farmer. He grows tomatoes now instead of cows and corn! And he has overalls. The girls did a great job stuffing Joe with leaves and drawing his face. We ran into trouble as everyone wanted to do his eyes, so we "drew sharpies". Paperman and I decided the eyes would be black, nose blue, and mouth green. Then the girls picked a lid, whoever got that color, drew that facial feature. Tears avoided. Joe is now placed on a bale of straw, with pumpkins and mums at his feet at the end of our driveway. He's also covered in cayenne pepper. Zoey would love to chew him up, but the cayenne worked to keep her our of our flowers this summer and we're hoping it will prolong Joe's life. Something I realized, this scarecrow, though wearing my Dad's clothing (except for the hat and kerchief), looks NOTHING like my dad. Maybe the clothes don't really make the man after all.
1 comment:
Priceless Title. I love how you looked into it and wrote out what you could hear people saying. Nothing wrong with a big family though
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