My friends, it is finally summer here. And the only thing that makes it okay that we are tortured with cold weather every spring is the absolute gloriosity* that is an Oregon summer.
It totally kicks your summer's arse.
So we were out enjoying some summery air and noticed that in the previous two days the raspberries had started ripening.
Our raspberries aren't big enough yet to supply us with jam makings, but there are enough to pick off the bush and eat whilst standing there.
There might even be enough to go and sit down and eat. But no one makes it that far. They suck those berries up like little vacuums.
In the last two days Sy has even figured out which ones he should pick. He pretends to pick the unripe berries and then says uh-uh and shakes his head. Funny guy.
Oh, and excuse the cotton-candy looking hair on that kid. It looks like that after sleep until I run a wet brush through it. And, as you can see, that doesn't always make the list of things that get done.
From the looks of things it appears to rank somewhere below picking the ripe raspberries.
Those grubby paws just grab those raspberries before I can get any. But that's not so bad since I don't really like raspberries.
Yes, you heard right. They're okay, but they just don't do it for me.
More for them, right?
*Totally made up the word gloriosity.