A Pleasant Morning Activity

I am well learned in the fine art of berry picking. My mother made sure of it. In the summers of my childhood my brothers and I were put to work picking strawberries, raspberries, saskatoons, and chokecherries. It wasn't always an enjoyable experience. Irmgard made sure we picked clean: no leaves or twigs or other junk in the pail, toss the overripe or bug eaten berries, take everything that was ripe, and don't complain in the hot hot sun. If we didn't pick everything we had to go back and do it again. Mom gave us ice cream pails and we'd string an ugly tie of Dad's through the handle and tie it around our waists. I was thinking about this today as I picked many black currants in the rain. It was a very gentle, steady rain, so I didn't mind. I've gotten so a lot of the tasks I wasn't enthusiastic about as a kid (berry picking, weeding) I don't dread so much now. I rather enjoy them, actually. (Unless a garden is really overgrown with weeds. I still hate that).

My very chic rain proof berry picking outfit.

The bush thick with black currants.

I also promised to let you know something exciting that I did on Saturday. It's not that exciting. We went to a market in Woodstock and had a stall. Leslie, Pam's sister had one too. And also a potter named Rachel Greenwood, a friend of Pam's. Her work is beautiful. It was a special market for the Dooryard* Arts Festival. That's right. Dooryard.

I really liked the market. It was a beautiful sunny day.  There was live music that wasn't my favourite and lots of interesting people. I quite enjoyed myself, until the end of the day. It was a long day. Very tiring.

You see that tent in the background- the one on the right? Yes, there I am, smiling like a fool. Don't I make you want to buy many bouquets or packages of teas or culinary blends?

See how good I am doing at posting these days? You're welcome.

Until next time.

*Dooryard: a word the locals use, synonymous to front yard. See http://www.dooryard.ca/index0.html.