I spent the morning with my sister, nephew (3-1/2 years), and niece (2 years). We took a drive out to Blain’s Farm & Fleet, which is one of my favorite stores. For those that don’t know, it’s like a Wal-Mart for farm folks. We stopped for lunch and then headed back home to put the kids down for their naps. Gage loves snuggle time with Auntie, and I cherish every second.
I hadn’t had time to check the garden before I left, so I threw my purse in the house and headed out to the jungle that is our black raspberry bushes. I mentioned about a month ago that these berries are taking over. We pick at least a pint every day now. Today was no different. The problem is that with all the rain we’ve been having, the mosquitoes are awful. After I picked a pint, I wasn’t sure if the stains on my fingers were blood, berry juice, or a mixture of both. I have bites on bites. There was still so much yet to be picked, but I had to stop or risk needing a transfusion.
When my homestead husband got home from work and the rain had passed, I lured him out there (it doesn’t take much). Being the clever fella he is, he remembered to bring his trusty tennis racket. No, I’m not talking about the kind you actually play tennis with. I’m talking about this kind (you can find it here):
We bought ours about 15 years ago at Venture before they went out of business. This thing never gets old. It’s one of the cheapest and most entertaining gifts I have ever bought him. He stands out there swinging and picking berries. He insists he is being my knight in shining armor, protecting me from the vicious, blood-thirsty, winged beasts (“I think I’ve killed at least 50! I’m pretty sure they’re running scared now!”). I can’t help but laugh and love him just a little bit more. Watching him, I just can’t bring myself to chastise him for eating more berries than he’s putting in the cup.
Life is so much sweeter with him beside me on this wannabe homestead.