There are a few things you need to be prepared for whenever you head out to pick blackberries. And since now is the time to be plucking those delicious dark fruits, I thought I’d share a few tips with you.

1. Silly hats, long sleeves, and long pants are a requirement. Chiggers, yellow jackets, spiders, little wormy bugs, and just about every critter you’d like to stay away from loves blackberries. And it’s gonna get hot out there so protect your head, face, and neck with a floppy hat. Or in my case a hat that is one size too small and makes me look like I belong to a back-to-basics religious community.

I have a big head.

No, not in a conceited way. In a “no-hat-ever-fits-my-head” way.

2. While you’re at it, spray yourself down with some OFF!

3. Wear decent shoes. You’re likely going to have gravel roads and definitely some briars and brambles to make your way through.

4. Make sure you have a good container to hold your berries. We like to use Rubbermaid containers that we fill with water as soon as we get back home. It’s good to rinse out all the sticks, leaves, ants, and little worms that might have made their way into your spoils.

5. Don’t forget to stop and enjoy the view. Blackberries are often found off the beaten path and this time of year there are tons of wildflowers blooming in Oklahoma. Be sure to take a moment to treasure the beauty that’s around you.

I find a lot of beauty in old barns. Blame it on my roots, I don’t mind.

6. Remember — all this sweet goodness comes at a price. You’re gonna get scraped, scratched, poked, and pierced. You may even be picking out the stickers days later (I was and always am).

(after a while, it’s hard to tell where the blackberry juice ends and the blood begins — yuck.)

But in the end, it’s worth it.

(what I’m anxious to get back to)

♥ puppy dog
♥ my recliner
♥ my morning coffee (cause let’s face it, elsewhere it’s just not the same)
♥ watering my garden
♥ checking for blossoms & fruits
♥ snow cones
♥ the sound Penny (guinea pig) makes when Kevin wakes up in the morning
♥ the smell of home
♥ mail
♥ clipping coupons (I have a problem)
♥ the rare day w/ dry heat
♥ sunlight through our french doors
♥ …and puppy dog. again.

♥ the give of a weed underneath a hoe
♥ squishing grub worms
♥ a light breeze
♥ roast beef
♥ lemonade weather
♥ Mr. Hobbs Takes A Vacation
♥ 10,000 steps a day
♥ blisters & callouses (they mean you’ve done some real work)
♥ late evening sun
♥ a cloudless sky
♥ “would i lie to you” – charles & eddie

I know, this is a sad excuse for a post. But I’m taaaaaahrd (that’s “tired”), y’all. Tomorrow is the last day of school before the break and tomorrow evening I am podcasting with Jolene over at GodlyGals, so…I’ll try to get that PEI post up. For now I’m going to leave you all with what may be my favorite photograph from the whole trip.

It makes me think of my mom. She’s a seamstress. I…am not. Maybe someday. I know it’s one of those things I’d have to put forth some effort to be decent at. And I’m not sure that I’ve got the patience. What a lovely image though.

Lovely Miss Samantha has some gorgeous new postcards available at her shop. Go on over there and check them out!

I was first introduced to Miss Lamb’s work whenever she shot a wedding that Kevin was in. Shortly thereafter I found some of her photography online and I just adore it. The way she captures light is really amazing and I look forward to each new capture she shares.

If you’d like to see (and purchase!) some of her photography, stop by Cuppies & Joe in OKC. Have yourself a cupcake and peruse the frames lining the walls. The spirit of that place is joyous and peaceful as it is, but Samantha’s captures really add a celebratory sense of life to the establishment.

friends who always have a kind word
encouragement
blessed events
she says i began to sing long before i could talk
fresh paint
bright rooms
Saturday morning
cushy couches
pay day
babies
shiny phones

♥ Dove soap
♥ the sound of a ceiling fan
♥ the sound the furnace makes when it kicks on in the middle of the night
♥ seeing the whites of my puppy’s eyes when she looks up at me
♥ the way she perks up when i say “kevin”
♥ men’s razors
♥ cozy living rooms
♥ paint samples
♥ the colors you find on the beach
♥ glass
♥ the last lightning bug
♥ picking persimmons
♥ an ice-cold fizzy pop
♥ reading, again
♥ a book like an old friend
♥ remembering dreams in the middle of the day
♥ knowing i’ll be married in 6 months, 4 days
♥ the idiosyncrasies of a dog

It occurred to me this morning that I am on a mission every Saturday (since my weekdays are really out of my control) the best day it can be. My body will no longer allow me to sleep in past eight o’clock in the morning, and most Saturdays I am awake before then unless I’m feeling under the weather.

This day is no different. I woke up, sufficiently rested after my average of 3 rollovers during the hour before I really wake up. I sleep like a dead person all through the night and then in the morning I have to change my position as I fight to stay asleep.

When I turned over this morning to get up, the clock glared at me with its wide, red eyes:

7:38

Are you kidding me?

He wasn’t, so I tossed the covers back and got out of bed. It’s always interesting to me to watch how people wake up and what they do. Not that I’ve had the opportunity to see many people in their waking up stage of the day. My immediate family, sure, my grandparents, some of my cousins (including the one who can’t keep her elbow out of my side), and a few friends and roommates. Not really Kevin, but kinda, since he spent Christmas with my family last year and someone woke him up about 2 hours before he was ready. Sorry, dude. That’s how we roll.

But it is interesting to see people as they shrug off sleep and open up to the morning. Some are quiet, some are moody, some, like myself, are pretty awake immediately and once I get around I am ready to go for the day. Coffee helps, of course, but I’m generally a pleasant person in the morning. Three o’clock in the afternoon is a different story because by then I need a nap. Bad.

I let puppy out of her crate in the garage and open the door that leads into the backyard.

“Go pee pee,” I say two or three times. She finally gets it, but she would rather play and we spend some time at the door with her slapping at my pink Croc, a shoe that does not offer the necessary amount of coverage a person needs on this sort of morning.

After she is fed and medicated I come back inside to check my email and get the day going. Something is calling me from the kitchen though and, surprise, it’s not coffee this morning. No, today I head to the fridge and pull out a pint of heavy cream, a measuring cup and spoon, cocoa from the cabinet, along with some cayenne pepper, Splenda, and some canned whipped cream. That, my friends, is a recipe for some tasty low-carb (high fat, high calorie, sugar-free, artery clogging) hot chocolate that cannot be beat. I admit that the cayenne does sound a little crazy and it’s not in the recipe, but I like the added spice. Ever seen Chocolat? Well, me neither, at least not the whole thing (I’ve never made it to the part where Johnny Depp appears…I think I must have been watching it on Pay-Per-View at my parents’ house and of course we didn’t buy it, so it got cut off in the middle somewhere) but I know she added spice to her chocolate.

This morning (and the past few) I am enjoying:
♥ hot chocolate
♥ the quiet
♥ the warmth of this house
♥ sunlight streaming in through a pair of white french doors
♥ the possibility of the day
♥ “brand new, with no mistakes in it”
♥ indentity by milan kundera
♥ wreck this journal by keri smith (and now, me)
♥ Friday Night Lights
♥ knowing next week exists and will be here soon
♥ the winter here’s cold…and bitter, it’s chilled us to the bone

Oh yes, I did.

My mom called me this afternoon and asked, “What size shirt do you wear?” “Small,” I replied, biting my tongue to keep from saying anything else. You see, Mom and Dad were at the Great State Fair of Oooook-lahoma! and I was a little worried that I was about to end up with a crocheted blouse with a glow-in-the-dark wolf ironed-on to the front. Oh how wrong I was. My mother, she knows me.

And she sure enough raised me Right.

(Cross-posted to Kick the Anthill)

How can you not dance to this? Can we have an Almost Friday Office Dance Party? Mr. Matkin, you are a genius.

(Cross-posted to Kick the Anthill)