Raspberry Picking

So, some of you may remember this moment from September last year. 
Mirah was not quite 4 months old.
 Her hair.
 Here we are again, back to the Briar Patch!
 Mirah is now nearly 16 months old and here she is with the same bucket. 
 Yeah, that’s about right. 
The minute that she realized that these bushes were full of berries, she was off. 
 And eating. I talked to the proprietor and he said not to worry about it, that it was all part of the experience. 
 Last year I also drew the comparison to Blueberries for Sal. A book my mom read to us as kids. 
This year was even more like the book!
 I mean…
Mirah was having a ball running up and down the rows. Eating all the Raspberries she could get her little princess hands on!
 She was getting annoyed with all the pictures so I cooled it for a while and picked some berries of my own. 
Next time I saw her: 
 Drunk on Raspberries with out a care in the world!
 Skinny Karl, hard at work.

 Her own berries weren’t enough, she needed he dad’s berries too!
 There was a moment where she was like…”ok, that’s enough…I am starting to feel really full.” 
 Then she saw the Deer Farm next door and she was in love. 
 Running away!

 Natural consequences of baby raspberry hugs. 

 Paid and packaged up, Mirah was ready for round two of berries.
 It took a little distracting with flowers to get her mind off of it.
 Flowers is one of her words. She says it so sweetly. Fwowersf. Sort of.
 Gave her two, she gave me one.
 Karl found this little flower and Mirah loved it.
 We picked out bouquet. 
(This is part of the package. There is a sign that invites you to pick flowers on your way out.)
 So pretty a perfect fall bouquet. 
Now on my kitchen table.
 We gave Mirah a bright yellow flower for the ride home. 

 Yeah, it didn’t make it.
It was a lovely view out there. 
We now have a pound of berries, fresh honey and purple garlic for our troubles. 
It’s officially fall!

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