A marvelous day on the farm, as usual. The Fuzzies took Rufus and we walked down to the bottoms by Long Man Creek to pick blackberries. Less than 5% of the berries are fully ripe, most remain entirely red, but in about two hours we picked about 7/8ths of a gallon of tasty berries.
Mr. Fuzzy's ADHD is really punishing in a berry patch. Imagine if you will, spotting a luscious, full black, juicy berry but as you reach for it, another catches your eye, and now you reach for it. Repeat this scenario ad infinitum. Get my drift?
Mr. Fuzzy's old and dear friend, Terry, many years ago gave him two pair of dojo trousers made of a heavy canvas. Literally, it takes a year of wearing them to break them in. After that, they are comfortable and indestructible for the next decade or more. They allowed Mr. Fuzzy to wade amongst the fiercest of blackberry canes with total impunity - from the waist down, at least. From there up, all was at risk. Thank you, Terry!
We are once more grateful for the bounty here on the farm. After picking another gallon in a few days hence, the blackberry jam factory with be in full production with Mrs. Fuzzy in charge and Mr. Fuzzy performing the menial tasks. Should all proceed apace, jars of jam will be under our friends holiday trees this winter.