In which I wear my heart on my sleeve…

First off,  the status of the berries remains the same as per yesterday's post.  Excellent, excellent, and raspberries continue to surprize. (* Note.  It is a jungle in the raspberry rows.  At this time of year the new canes are staking their territory and overtaking the producing canes.  Picking is not for the faint of heart!)

Bring your own containers and see you in the patch daily between 8am and 2pm except Sunday.

With the berry-induced adrenalin rush beginning to wain, what follows is a little sharing of one of the highs of berry farming:

By mid-August, we I become a little overwhelmed and emotional.  Yes, overwhelmed that the weeds are winning the battle and overwhelmed with the ridiculous amount of green beans to deal with.  But more overwhelmed with the incredible season of berries and also, encountering daily, the nicest people that one could hope to meet.  Last year, I was particularly warmed by the +80 crowd that came to pick berries. They haven't come out as much this year-- although a 97 yr. old was out today. (Hi Ross!)  This year, it's the parent and teen combo coming to pick berries that has touched me.  I know many of the teens were dragged out of bed to come and pick. Threatened with, "no smoothies for a year" sort of thing. And no, it's not the bedhead that warms my heart but hearing the hum of conversation between parent and teen in the rows.  (Truly, I'm not eavesdropping!)  The quiet hum of casually chatting outside, while working, is lovely.  Maybe this is because I'm pretty certain our own kids will be sick of both berries and their berry obsessed parents by the time they reach their teens. So if you arrive with your teen, particularly one with bedhead, please forgive the tear in my eye.  It's just that this season, you are making berry farming a heart-warming vocation.

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