Monday, July 12, 2010

Parks, 2010 edition

On Saturday we were driving to Liam's soccer game and heard an ad from Parks Farm on the radio. This past weekend was the opening of berry season. It's unusually early this year, on account of how warm it's been.We had nothing planned for Sunday, but from this point forward the summer starts to get crazy for us. So I talked to the kids about going on Saturday night and they seemed excited by the prospect. By the time they woke up on Sunday morning they had changed their minds and didn't want to go, and I pulled out the big guns to convince them: I dragged out the pictures of them in front of the "How Tall This Year?" sign, year after year, which makes them crack up at themselves and each other. The trip was back on.It must be said that blueberries are the best for picking. I was a bit worried that by going so early, the bushes would be covered with green berries, but in fact they were absolutely laden with fruit. It took us no time at all to pick many pounds. Once again, Liam's pail came home almost empty and his belly came home full to bursting. It's the one day of the year when I don't mind if he ingests a few pesticides. There is nothing quite like a fresh sun-warmed blueberry.Of course, the tractor ride to and from the field, and the on-site games make the trip worthwhile, too. We must have spent 20 minutes racing each other with these water pumps and rubber ducks.

Now we have a whole lot of blueberries to use up, and neither Liam nor I are complaining. Mallory still insists that she does not like blueberries, but she happily ate the blueberry oat bar she picked out from the on-site bakery and took home for her lunch. One of these days I will win her over.These pages are only partially finished, but I thought they were worth sharing, anyway. I love the year-by-year comparison of Liam's trips to Parks. The first year he went, they didn't have the sign, and he was only 3 months old so standing next to it was out of the question, anyway. The following year was the only time we missed a year. Not sure why, though it may have something to do with the fact that Mallory was on her way and I was busy dry-heaving.