It continues...

Here is a pic of the berry cave in all its glory.

I wish I had pictures of the lake that is now our front field. We've had a monsoon over the last few days and yesterday, people literally had to walk in water up to their ankles to get to the berry field. Fortunately, the cooler weather has made the berries less prone to spoiling on the vine, which is good; however, the wetness has made the fruit more prone to a diasease commonly known as fruit rot. Here at the Berry Farm, we call it the Trottenberries.

This is a pic of a man who is the highlight of the berry season, not for his outward requests to have me naked in his hot tub, but because he brings me such desirable delicacies as Ice Caps and poutine. The fastest way to this woman's heart is obviously through food. Unfortunately, he is not yet aware of my intention to make old-maiden-hood fashionable once more. He is the hero of the berry season for many reasons. Number one was the day that three old men terrorized me for half an hour and reduced the entire staff to tears. Only our hero could show up with Ice Caps and make the day better once more.

We officially hit rock bottom last week when we ended a very profitable day by gluing together an ashtray with a market value of less than a dollar (especially after the depreciation kicks in). SuperNan and I actually spent the day sharing the halves of our ashtray together quite nicely; however, by the late afternoon, the Berry Queen demanded that we quit being such a bunch of tightwads and spend the dollar to buy another one. Not about to be ordered around by a pregnant woman suffering mild edema, SuperNan hauled out the Household Goop and insisted that the ashtray would be as one once more. Mission accomplished.

More to come later.

Toonses