This morning we got up bright and early and headed out to a berry farm near Carnation, east of Seattle. We stopped on the way in Redmond, that anemic suburb town that’s a dormitory for Microsoft employees, and I had the tastiest maple scone I’ve ever eaten, before driving on to the berry field.
The sun was up, the skies were cloudless and the berries came off the bushes in handfuls, so in short order we’d collected nine pounds of blueberries, paid for them and stowed them in the cooler in the back of our car, before driving a few miles to a state park where the girls could play in the river with one of their friends.
Having deposited everyone, and with a friend of ours giving my family a ride home, I drove back on my own, stopping to drop off the berries in our fridge, then head out down to help with the homeless south of Seattle.
The day remained roasting, and by the end of it my shoes were so hot that it was uncomfortable to drive in them. Between that and my sweaty knees I was beginning to melt; I got home and was looking forward to sitting in an easy chair for an hour, but not ten minutes after my return, the rest of the family turned up.
Still, with a dear friend and her son accompanying them, the girls played nicely all afternoon, allowing me to sneak out to the climbing gym and flex some muscle, and with everyone exhausted by the day’s frolicking, they were asleep on time tonight, so I could go and fetch a new set of beard clippers.
I did a terrible number on myself; I’ve got a ludicrous combination of a goatee and a neckbeard now, some blame for which I level at my wife for telling me I wasn’t clipping enough hair off. Measure twice, cut once, right? Still, it can grow back… As long as the girls laugh, it’ll be worth it.
I read a dreadful Games Workshop novel about goblins, put La Serpiente back to bed, and now the day is done.