Berries are Hairy

Berries are hairy



Asparagus isn’t hairy, bejeweled or particularly luscious and yet a few pictures wound up on my camera just the same.

Caroline and I love asparagus. Roasted with salt and pepper, please.

My mouth waters at the very thought of the veritable cornucopia of fresh produce available this time of year.

In other, non produce related news, remember the flowers I received last week? Well, they died. But before the roses dried out, lost their luster and met their maker in the garbage can, they bloomed a little. What’s not to love about a blooming pink rose?

Nothing new or noteworthy is happening here in the Neurotic Household. Just thought I’d show you my hairy berries.
Now, your life is complete.

What about you? Do you like berries?
My mom doesn’t like blueberries so we never had them in our house while growing up. Consequently, I didn’t eat a fresh blueberry until a few years ago. Which is too bad because I like ’em. I like all berries.
When I was a kid in California we went strawberry picking. And olallieberry picking.
My mom went on a serious jam making kick after strawberry picking one year.
She made lots of jam.

3 responses

  1. When you're here, you and Dad and the kid can feast on asparagus til you're green in the gills. Yuk.Last night I had a serious hankering for cake, specifically chocolate cate, and I was going to drive to Winn Dixie to get a slice, but I didn't want to move my carcass. Instead, I mixed up some buttercream frosting (Let us now pause for a moment of blissful reflection) and dipped gingery biscottis in it. It wasn't chocolate cake, but it was durn good. And I'd like some more, please.Your fotos are beautiful.Your berries are hairy.Your kid is creative.And I like moms.(Um, that poem needs work.)


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