Write a four line poem about: all hands on deck.
Strawberries sold out, I'm guessing, around 10:30 this morning - all 30 quarts and 120 pints of them. They were at Adam's end of the table so I can't say for sure what time the last pint sold.
I was busy with the cherries. I had lots of help from Becky and Kat (and Adam once the berries were gone), but they were my main focus for the market.
At the end of the market we had 1.75 pounds of cherries left. I made up a one pound bag and a .75 pound bag and left them on the table while we packed up. I wound up giving (full disclosure: I just typed gaving the first time and it wasn't a typo - my brain was convinced that was a word) the smaller bag to the vendors across the street from us and, just before I gave up, sold the final bag.
I haven't counted up the money yet (too tired, I'm sure you'll be surprised to learn) but I'm pretty sure that was the most income we've brought in at a single market. We're splitting it three ways (Kat's parents get half the cherry money while we get a quarter and Becky and Adam get a quarter, and we get half the berry money while Becky and Adam get the other half) but it's still going to be a nice bit of cash for us.
And now we rest. Well, I'm going to go pass out until Max jumps on my head and demands food.
Trouble is brewing,
So crack your knuckles and your neck.
It's time to fight boys,
We better get all hands on deck.