Tomorrow my family wants to go pick some fresh blackberries, raspberries and blueberries on a farm.
Forty-Five minutes each way. Hunched over in the sun doing manual labor. Bugs! A whole half a day wasted. I’m sooooo looking forward to it.
I mean, come on! There’s a freakin’ farmers market 10 minutes down the road. Fresh packaged fruit, no fuss no muss. And they probably come from that same dang farm! Half hour out of the day, tops!
(The only good I can see is I will be sure to ask them to direct me to the Blue Raspberry area... I do so want to try some of those )
My wife's good friend (who is a black woman) heard we were going berry picking at a farm and she said "Only white folks would think it's fun to pay money for the privilege of picking someone's crops in the hot sun."