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Growing up on a ranch we were out in the country enough to have no one steal our berries, usually.

Railroad tracks were on the other side of the road from our house, literally. It’s a sound I love. Hearing trains brings me back to my childhood. The trains would pass by our house a few times in the middle of the night and I would never wake up to them. It was a part of our normalcy.  On some sections of the tracks were some blackberry bushes that we would go pick, if mom wasn’t watching. I have always wanted to  go berry picking. My strawberries in our garden keep getting eaten before we can get to them, but at least they’re feeding something.

I decided we needed to get some berry picking done this year. I found Sweet Berry Farms outside Austin. I seemed like a good enough place. Imogen was excited, but not as much as I was! While getting ready she needed to put her face on too. I’m not a big make-up wearer, but she loves to “get girly” as she calls it. I let her do her eye shadow and tell me where she wanted her pony tails. I helped her clean up a little off her nose, but let her go the day with her creation. Pretty cute, but we might be watching too much of Ru Paul’s Drag Race.

At the berry farm they give you a basket to pick as much as you want. We went the first weekend they were open. It was pretty dang hot. The strawberries were everywhere. They had all kinds of them. We found a little row all to ourselves, away from all the other fingered vultures. It took some explaining for Imogen to get the right ones, and not eat them before we paid.

  Don’t they look delicious? They were.

The baskets hold 8 pounds of berries leveled off to the top. We ended up getting about 7 pounds. Once you start picking it’s so easy to just grab every bright red thing you see sticking out. The berries were so good. We ate most of them in a couple days and froze the rest for ice cream and smoothies. The farm was a lot of fun. They have a ton of stuff for kids to do besides just pick berries. They also are open in the fall for pumpkins and squash gathering. Too bad we won’t be in Austin for that.

On the way back we did what a lot of Texans do…sit in bluebonnets. There are pictures of my siblings and I when we were little sitting in bluebonnets. So why not? My roommate is a photographer. And Imogen and I have faces. Pictures were to be had.