We just got back from a CRAZY vacation and I had a great time!
Picking blackberries
Did you ever do something and come home, take a shower, and think, "How in the heck did I get hurt in a place like that?" Sometimes this happens when I lift weights at the gym, but today I'm referring to picking blackberries. There were four of us (not including kids, who came back unscathed if not for cranky) and I believe I was the most scraped. Who told me blackberry picking is so not worth it? No one! You climb on this very steep hill, which under normal circumstances would be almost impossible to navigate back down even if there wasn't thorns and vines all over the place. Then you work your way into the prickly mess, because of course, why would the large juicy ones grow on the outer edges? And then you stick your hand in there and expect them to just fall off like Blueberries and you realize even the leaves have pokeys!!! I feel so defeated by those bushes that I've been planning my counter-attack ever since I got home and saw the blood. So next time (yes, misery loves company, so why not invite myself along for another suicide mission?) I'm bringing a big piece of particle board and I'm going to lay it down like a little platform where I stand (although I haven't figure out the logistics of doing this on a steep hill, but I'm working on it) and get thick gloves and maybe I'll cover my clothes in duct tape so they won't get stuck on the thorns. I may look like a lunatic, but I'd go down in history as The Person Who Truly Picked Blackberries.
I recently went to Utah on a trip to see my sister get married (yay temple marriage!!) and on the way home (an 8 1/2 hour ordeal with an 8 month old baby) I get on this flight, sitting by the window, and on my other side is a VERY large man with a big beard speaking another language. And I'm thinking, "wow, can't get more awkward than this." And just when I'm thinking that, Jackson becomes completely engrossed in getting this guy's attention. And for the entire 1 1/2 hour flight, that is all Jackson wants. I mean, he was even pulling the guy's arm hairs! There was a lot of hair there... And it turns out, the guy was really nice and talked to Jackson and made him happy the whole trip. You can never judge a person by their cover. Heck, if people judged me by my cover, they'd think I had psoriasis or some other contagious disease on my arm. Anyway, on the next flight a Granola Lady sits next to me. She's got hiking shoes, hiking bag, hiking hair, heck even hiking glasses. I'm trying to think of a better way to describe it, but that's all that comes to mind. You know, the nature people. Everything natural. And hiking people are usually nice looking. Well, she sits down and all she says is, "Is he going to cry?" You really can't judge people by their cover. She also happened to be obsessive compulsive, moving every which way and adjusting everything five times and fidgeting all over the place. I admit, I tried my hand at getting her to move to another empty seat. When she asked if he'd cry I said, "Hopefully not too much. I wouldn't be offended if you moved to another spot." She got the hint but stayed planted. And I'm thinking, "You like hiking, why not hike to another row?" But I bit my tongue and luckily Jackson wasn't impressed by her either because it's horrible trying to keep an interested baby away from an uninterested/uninteresting person.
Finally I made it home, the house was immaculate, my husband attentive and doting, my kids excited, and me relieved. It doesn't get better than that. Unless you count the millions of fruit flies in the kitchen that couldn't help but give me a standing ovation when I walked through the front room.......