Thursday evening was one of the last blackberry picking days of the summer, and so we as a family went to our secret spot and picked them with the kids. Our children love helping us pick the berries. Usually they eat more than they pick, however to my surprise our youngest and oldest were actually pouring their bowls into the big pot of blackberries.
Our youngest is just the right size for picking the fat and juicy blackberries which are found down below the brambles near the ground. Thursday’s trip to the secret spot to pick blackberries was actually my husband’s idea this time. Of course he had ulterior motives to pick–we are running low on blackberries for his smoothies, shakes, and muffins. My man thinks with his stomach.
Now you know any of our outings never go off without a hitch. Whether it is Lily digging tortoises from under bushes, the kids turning the water fountain into a shower or our car getting four flat tires, we always have something to laugh about or shake our heads about afterward. Thursday it was my fault.
You see this lovely field of trees and grasses in complete serenity and quiet? Well I had to take a restroom break behind one of those trees and very quickly hid myself and took care of business. The problem was when I had to pull my shorts back up I was having a difficult time trying to maneuver things and get situated. In other words, my pants were easier pulling down than getting back up.That is when I looked up and noticed an old red farm truck heading right for me.
Needless to say I was mortified.
But I didn’t let it show. I just buttoned my pants and walked back over to my husband who was oblivious to what had happened and continued picking blackberries with the family.
Good times.
Then I checked on my other summer wild fruit and discovered they’re ready for the picking too:
Ripe, black mustang grapes.
