Getting Fruity

I think I am in danger of becoming a northern California granola-girl. Don't get me wrong, I still lather and shave daily - or whenever I get to take a shower- but there's something so nice about not putting on makeup or doing my hair and just getting out the door into the sun. How did I come to this realization? I took the boys fruit picking on Friday.

I actually showered, but let my hair go curly (read frizzy) and the only thing I put on my face was sun block. We packed some peanut butter sandwiches and lots of bottled water (it is already in the 90's here) and drove 30 minutes out to a fruit farm.I knew it was going to be great when we passed a rooster on our way in. We said hello to the girl at the cash register (her name was Gloria. Michael said, "A song!" meaning "Angels We Have Heard on High." This kid is a serious music nut.) and went off to pick some cherries. The boys were in heaven because they could reach them and they quickly filled their 1 pint baskets with the brightest red, unripe, tart cherries. They were all at eye level and they got a kick out of being able to do it themselves. They've been telling everyone about it all weekend. "I pick cherries on the farm!" Michael even got Josh to eat some - they're not his favorite - by saying, "I pick cherries on the farm, Daddy. It's yummy! You eat it!"Last time we went fruit picking was in August, I think. We picked raspberries and I spent the whole time chasing them. This time they stayed with me and I had to coax them from place to place. Michael didn't want to leave the cherry trees. When I wanted to change to strawberries, he did run off . . . back the the cherry trees! I had him taste a juicy strawberry, and then he understood why I was picking those too and stood near me eating them out of my box as I picked them. Sam, ever social, walked over to the other moms and kids and struck up a conversation. "That's my mom over there and that's Mach-ow (Michael)."
The owner of this small pick-your-own farm waved to the boys as he rode by on his tractor. Sam couldn't get over it. "Mommy! The farmer waved to Sammy!" He later said, "I want to stay this forever." So we're going back for peaches next week!
(Don't eat the pit!)
At home, I put the boys down for naps and watched the movie "Emma" on the laptop while I made freezer jam and a strawberry pie. I decided to brush the crust with melted Her*shey Kisses before filling it. It was awesome!

We've been pigging out on cherries, watermelon, and strawberries. As I picked the fruit in the bright sun with the boys running around having the time of their lives, I thought how happy I was. If I am too lazy to plant a garden, at least I can have the experience of picking the fruit and preparing it at home.

When I was childless and miserable at my job in Virginia I day dreamed about living on an acre or two in a white frame farm house with red gingham curtains and french doors opening to a huge backyard with a huge garden and kids running all over the yard and practicing the piano - inside. I would be gardening, cooking, and sewing, all uninterrupted while the kids played for hours on end, of course! So while I'm not ready for Birken*stocks, and I don't know if I could really give up mascara for good, I have to admit that days like this are so fulfilling.

I guess we all have a desire to till the earth, or at least to eat its delicious, sun-ripened fruit!