Blackberry Pickin'

We decided to make a quick trip to Knoxville for the weekend of the Fourth of July. Gran and Grandaddy had already planned to go to a party hosted by a friend of theirs, and she graciously agreed to let them bring us as well. The party was to include picking blackberries at a nearby preserve and bringing the berries back to the hostess' farm so she could make blackberry pies.

Now, I have never been blackberry picking. I took the kids to pick strawberries last summer, and silly me thought this would be similar. I did not realize that blackberries grow up in the middle of briars and thorns. (Call me a city girl.) So, my family was seriously inappropriately-dressed for this particular activity. Corin and Evan were wearing shorts; Pressley and I were in skirts. Evan had on the most appropriate shoes - his crocs. The rest of us had on flip flops.

We walked in our inappropriate clothing and shoes to the top of a very long, steep hill to where Grandaddy figured the best berries would be. Corin blazed a trail for the kids and showed them how to pick the berries and I got a couple of pictures before the chaos ensued.

As Gran predicted, Pressley was not a big fan of the blackberry pickin'. She got a thorn in the bottom of her toe, which drew blood, and it was all over but the hollering. She screamed like she had lost her whole toe rather than just a few drops of blood and I ended up carrying her all the way back down the hill while she hollered. I have never been so sweaty in my life. OK, maybe I have, but the point is, carrying 40 pounds of screaming, writhing pre-schooler down a hill in the heat of July is not fun for anyone...

Things significantly improved when we returned to the farm for a pot-luck dinner. There were lots of other kids at the party, and after dinner, the kids enjoyed drawing with sidewalk chalk, playing catch, watching the teenage boys light fireworks, chasing fireflies, and the like.

Here is Lil' P watching daddy draw with some sidewalk chalk.

Sunday, we just hung out with Gran and Grandaddy. Here is Pressley hanging out, playing her Leapster with an exhausted Lilly nearby. I am certain Lilly was resting from being loved on all morning.

We left that afternoon to return to Decatur to watch the fireworks with some friends. On the way back into town, we stopped for a burger at FLIP, and Evan discovered a new love... in the form of a Krispy Kreme doughnut milkshake. Happy Birthday, America!