I had a jam-a-thon yesterday afternoon after another berry-picking extravaganza. Finally, the blackberries ripened in the sunshine and we picked with full force. After a vegan waffle from Flavourspot (I tried the pecan with maple syrup -- dental appointment suicide), we got into the car to hop on the good foot and do the bad thing (feast in the heat). After our previous visits, I was fully prepared in proper attire: shorts, hat, tennies and light t-shirt. This ensemble allows maximum comfort and easy access to bending down and getting a little dirty. Dave and I were again, like a madman and madwoman, searching for the next ripe tasty morsel. As our companions dwindled into the shade and bought lemonades, Dave and I carried on. It is was this moment that I realized we REALLY like to go out to the farms and participate in our food source. We are obsessed. I am happy to be in the midst of a seasonal addiction and it makes me appreciate how much work it is to grow, then harvest food. Growing up near a farmer's market and some of the most amazing produce in the world (Southern California), I never quite put it together -- because I was there with my wallet, not my stained red fingers. Pretty amazing to wake up into a sun-drenched farm, full of fruits, corn and orange creme sodas -- right down the street! I am so lucky.
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