Raspberry picking

It’s been over a week now, but we had the best time raspberry picking last week. (We had a nice time picking yesterday too, but it wasn’t as much fun as the last time). I belong to a local organic farm and although we enjoy everything from the farm, the early spring (strawberries) and the late summer/early fall (raspberries) are my family’s favorite times to go to the farm and “pick.” As in, “We’re going to go pick at the farm after school today.” Which is how we refer to it.

The farm is also just about the only place I ever let my older kids get out of my sight in public. Not out of yelling distance, and the rule is that they must answer when I call them or privileges will be revoked, but in the several years since this privilege began, I’ve only had to revoke it once. That was a few years ago and if I recall, it involved Universe Man walking too fast for Mr. Personality.

While the Bunny Friend and I went and picked the rest of our produce, the boys got started with the raspberries. Eventually we joined them, but I wasn’t getting very far with putting berries in my container because the Bunny Friend wanted me to keep picking berries for her. And Universe Man was getting tired. I don’t remember what Mr. Personality thought about the matter.

So I asked Universe Man if he would be in charge of the Bunny Friend. He is much reliable about this than his brother because a) he is older and b) for whatever reason, he doesn’t get jealous as much. He agreed. (It should be noted that they were both right next to me the whole time). His assignment? Choose ripe raspberries for your sister to pick and eat. Keep up with her. Do not let her pick or otherwise eat overripe or underripe berries or anything else she shouldn’t eat.

He did a great job.

*Lest you think that we do not respect the “picking limits” at our farm, I should point out that when we eat as we pick, we don’t take as much home. We pick our share, we just eat part of it as we go. Sometimes we eat all of it, but not last week.