Today, after work, once The XY showed up to take his visitation (a miracle unto itself), Hotter and I went berry-picking. We're still overdrawn, and I don't much care for the pesticidal ways of most "pick-your-own" places anyway, so we went first to a nearby roadside I've had my eye on and then to a clear-cut then overgrown access path through the woods under some power lines. Blackberries were plentiful in both places, although the season is just getting started here, and the sun was shining.
About a quarter-mile into the woods we came across a muddy washout in the path, teeming with tadpoles--when I scouted this location out a few days ago by myself I saw lots of little adult frogs, too, although Isis scared them all away today. We let her offleash while I picked (Hotter doesn't see color or perceive depth well enough to pick safely or effectively, but came along to keep me company and wrangle the dog) and she went nuts! I have rarely seen her so rampantly joyous--she ran through the foot-deep water as fast as she could, snapping at tadpoles as she ran. When she came to the end of the water she'd go just far enough to get a good running start, turn around, and do it again; she did this over and over, getting filthy and soaked, tongue streaming. She had a blast! We all did.
At home, I picked the blackberries from our backyard, and that gave us slightly more than eight cups of berries. I made them into seven eight-ounce jars of seedless jam. The kitchen is trashed, and I'm sorely tempted to judt pitch the food mill, but all in all today was a wonderful day.
I have tomorrow off, and am getting sleepy after my bedtime snack of fresh jam on a biscuit and milk, but I just wanted to let y'all know it's not all gloom and doom over here.
Sometimes it's also jam.
Sent from The Precious