Sunday June 4th, 2017

The exercise:

Write something that has to do with: no, you do it.

Kat and I went out for brunch this morning, our first date since... probably my birthday. The boys hung out with Grandma and Papa on the farm and had a great time.

Shall try to do this a little more often, me thinks.

Here's a couple shots from the car show, as I managed to get the pictures off my phone already and I figured I'd better run with the momentum:


That one inspired a series of shots of only car engines, as Max thought taking pictures of the cars that had their hoods up was suddenly a great idea.


I think that was my favorite one, as I thought the old school luggage up top was a nice touch.

All right. Back to work with me tomorrow, so I should get this done.

Mine:

With Kat's parents planting another section of strawberries (without consulting us beforehand) - which basically doubled our production from last year - we always knew picking them all was going to be a challenge. Then I got my four days on, four days off job and one of the two weekly picks became more or less impossible.

The hope at first was that my schedule would allow me to attend the Penticton farmers market when the berries came ready. But then the cold spring delayed the plants and now even that much is out of the question.

Talks of doing a U-Pick started around Christmas, with Kat's mom surprisingly on board (she likes her privacy and quiet). It was pretty much the only choice though as we don't have the manpower or cooler/fridge space to pick and store all those berries whenever they peak. I mean, we just got around 25 pounds and there are hardly any ripe out there.

So we're doing it. Our very first day will likely be this coming Saturday. And we've already got plenty of interest. It'll be a learning experience for sure, but I'm hopeful that it'll work for everyone.

Customers get their berries and we get our berries picked. We'll have to do some picking ourselves, for trades and friends and whatever, and I expect there will be days when not enough people show up to pick the whole crop.

But for the most part? We're basically telling people: "Us? No, you pick the strawberries."

2 Comments:

Greg said...

Max looks happy in that picture: is he thinking of being a mechanic next? Although I think modern cars don't let you get near the engine with your own tools any more....
The pick-your-own thing sounds interesting and a good idea: I can remember doing it when I was a kid with my parents. I didn't care much for picking strawberries, but apples, plums and pears were fun. When you could reach the fruit. I hope it all goes well for you and there's not too much damage done to the crop by idiots :)

No, you do it
The room was mostly decorated in beige and yellow, reflecting the sand of the deserts that made up most of the planet, but there were two scarlet cushions on a low couch that appeared to be otherwise made of driftwood. Juliet reclined as much as her many-layered crinoline dress would allow her -- she tilted back slightly and appeared drunk -- and sighed. Rayban, dressed in black leather from head to toe was feeling swelteringly hot, sweating like a stuck pig, and standing in the coolest part of the room, which definitely wasn't cool enough.
"You look like a domina -- dominato -- what's the masculine of dominatrix?"
"Dominator," said Rayban. "You know I don't have a choice."
"You always have a choice!" Juliet rustled like an aggressive tree and tilted slightly further back. She yelped with panic as she realised she couldn't right herself again. "We didn't have to come to this wretched planet, you could have told the Emperor you were sorry for killing his Mentat. We didn't have to cut short our strawberry picking on Reba-7 just because that Bene Gesserit witch fell out of that tree. You could have just left the body where it was. You've made all the choices so far!"
"Baron Harkonnen was clearly stalking me," said Rayban. He flexed and his leather suit creaked. "The Emperor found out about the Mentat conveniently during his only lucid moment in six years. Any other time he'd have giggled and carrying on drawing on the walls with his own poo. And the Bene Gesserit don't die by accident: it's planned down to the last detail. She fell out of that tree to force my hand."
"Well I wish I could force your hand," said Juliet fluttering her eyelashes. "I'm sure you've been keeping that suit somewhere secret!"
"Yes," said Rayban flatly. His eyes seemed a little more liquid suddenly, as though tears were being held back. "It's a riding suit."
"You can ride m-"
"For sandworms."
Juliet shrieked and toppled over backwards, her legs waving in the air like a woodlouse on its back. The analogy didn't end there.
"I told the Emperor that if we stopped here I'd need more spice to get us back. He told me to get it myself."
"The monster! Help me get up!"
"Oh Juliet... no. You do it."

Marc said...

Greg - oh, I'm sure mechanic is on his list somewhere.

Yes, I was concerned about idiots running amok out there, but we never had any problems with that. People were very respectful and appreciative, which was nice.

So many great details in this one. To the point that I was enjoying it all so much I quite forgot what the prompt was until you brought us back round to it at the end there. Nicely done!