Short armed, pickin', purple berry eater...

The berries are in full swing here.  I went out and picked, first, in the chicken yard, then in back of our  pole barn. 

The chickens were curious, as they usually are, when I am in the yard.  Then... I dropped a berry.  The race was on!  They do know what those are!  I made a point of picking (and tossing) a few berries as I went along.  I dropped a couple, too, that I hadn't intended to, but they didn't last long enough to worry about...  I use a #10 coffee can for picking, and it was nearly half full by the time I finished in the chicken area.  The chickens would have been quite happy to have me continue to pick, if I had kept up with the random tossing of fresh berries.

I went to the pole barn, and worked there.  I might bug Husband, depending on how much I get finished, that I would like a ladder.  I was able to finish off my can, but there were some lovely berries, just much higher than what I could reach.  I took the full can in, and started mashing berries for jelly/syrup.  Husband had been cleaning out the freezer for me, I have found that my hands just ache after I clean the freezer.  I use big mitts, but that makes it very hard to pick things up.  I had been asking Husband if he could get some of the jelly out of the freezer, when he picks up a big juice container I had in there. 

What's this?

I laughed.  It's berry juice I didn't get to last year.  So, I have two big bowls of berry juice.  One will be jelly, the other, blackberry syrup.  I really enjoy maple syrup, but this is a close second.  And it goes over ice cream well, too...

And the chickens?  They were given the "sludge" (the seeds and skins, etc., that were left after I mashed the berries), and they nearly were climbing over one another to get at the stuff!  I have to skim the top of the berry juice, and they will, once again, have a fine bit of feasting...

And boy, does it make the next time I clean the chicken house unique...

You know you are a yarnaholic when...

The In-Laws are here for a visit.  They were sitting, and I had just come back from helping with a volunteer project. 

We who do the stuff, are often volunteers for various groups.  That day was no exception.  I arrived, and one of the gals who helps out at the hospital, as well,  buttonholed me to show me some yarn.  Turns out, the hospital can't use wool yarn, and so she thought of me.  Read: having the yarn in a bag, handing it to me, THEN asking if I wanted it, and 'sweetening' the deal, by telling me the yarn was real Irish wool.  (This doesn't impress me as much as it should.  I bought some VERY expensive Irish wool one time, the gal had the gift of Blarney.  She told me it was the very best wool, and it would wash up wonderfully.  I think it was spun without being cleaned, it was incredibly scratchy, and didn't do much when washed but make the washer a mess.  I think it was the wool equivalent of Irish soccer hooligans... Her store didn't last long, either.)  But this was nice, and came with some lovely short wood needles, so I figure, fine!

So, I took it, and when I came home, I put the wool in the freezer.  This isn't nearly as crazy as it sounds.  Leaving it in the freezer kills any moth larvae, which hatch and make a giant mess of your wool.  I found out this the hard way.  So, after plopping it in, I go and sit, making chit chat with family. 

Without thinking of the repercussions, during a lull, I told Husband, "I put some yarn in the freezer."
He responded, "Good thing I just cleaned it out for you, huh?" 

Very rarely are my In-Laws at a loss for words.  They just looked at the two of us, mouths open, then shut, and with a look and shrug, they changed the subject.

YES!  My crazy yarn lady cred is intact!!!