Dylan and I haven't had a day off in weeks, so yesterday we loaded up the tent, our dog, and Boy Kid and headed to the coast. We pitched a tent in my folks yard, with not a plan except to make a nice dinner, look at some stars, and take a soak in their hot tub (which we are both now in agreement that we really must have at some future point in our lives). It was heavenly. This morning we woke up late and very leisurely did whatever the heck we wanted. For Boy Kid that meant time with friends, Dylan headed to the beach, and I picked some blackberries with my Papa Steve so that he could turn them into blackberry jam.
This is (part of) my folks' yard. See that hedge-looking thing just beyond the grassy field? Well, those are blackberry bushes. Gazillions of them.
The targets. . .
Papa Steve + a big plank of wood = endless possibilities.
Truth be told, I didn't do a whole lot of berry picking. I pricked my wee little girly fingers one too many times and designated myself as official bucket-carrier. Papa Steve has manly hands hands though. Purple-stained, crooked-pinkied, manly hands.
After a while I wandered off in search of pretty things to snap pictures of. . .
. . . and might have helped myself to some strawberries fresh from the garden.
We're back to The Cart now, and I'm putting the finishing touches on tomorrow's Something-New. What is it, you ask? Well, I'll give you a hint. . .His favorite color is orange, he has long ears, and he only eats candy corn. And no, its' not Dylan. I'll be back tomorrow evening to alleviate what I can only imagine is the pain of suspense.