I have a new aspiration in life.
I want to be a blueberry farmer.
And a sweet little cabin where we'll weigh berries and show off my stained glass artwork and the his and hers willow chairs that Amish Ryan and I will make together at a weekend retreat/willow chair-making class.
As well as a honkin' huge cabin (made with logs hewn from the trees on our property) with a gorgeous side deck overlooking the blueberry farm and a way-cool BRIDGE CROSSING A GOLDFISH POND LEADING TO OUR FRONT DOOR!
In other news, we picked blueberries this weekend at an amazing place. The proprietors were amazing as well. They told the boys before we started that it was fine to sample the berries while we picked, but not to eat too many, or they'd be in the bathroom all night. Brilliant line to use to discourage giving away pounds of berries to all your little pickers. Reed ate four blueberries. After the fourth one, he was sure he could start to feel the effects. Calvin ate a few more, but still not more than a handful. Max....
Well, Max doesn't quite understand what's wrong with being in the bathroom all night - after all, that's where the toilet candy is. So, he spent the day hiding from his bossy brothers who were super worried about his digestive health. When we had our berry weigh-in contest, Max had all of six berries in his bucket and no telling how many in his belly.
We walked away with just a few pounds of berries, but we could have gone away empty-handed and I still would have felt full. (And without having to be in the bathroom all night!)
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