When we drove past last Saturday the flags were out, inviting people in. I didn't realize Keaton knew what that meant but as soon as he saw them he was yelling from the back seat "Mom! Mom! The blueberry patch is open!" We already had plans on Saturday and couldn't fit in a pick so I made a deal with him, we'll go buy some today and we'll go back and pick on Wednesday.
It took some coercing, but he finally agreed to it (he really, really wanted to pick on Saturday.) And so that's what we did; we spent Wednesday morning at the blueberry patch.
I remember Keaton liking this last year, but this year even I was shocked at just how diligent he was. Picking, picking, picking, filling up his bucket. He was so proud of all his berries and kept coming to show me.
Hutton. Ahh, Hutton. Much like last year, Hutt did a lot of this:
Of course, along with the picking there was a lot of mischief.
With these two, there is always mischief.
And dirt. Lots of dirt. (I highly suggest clicking on this picture of Hutt and checking out his face.)
We didn't pick a ton, but enough to make a crisp or muffins.
What we don't use in baking or snacking will go in the freezer for Nolan; because in just a few short months he'll be eating purees (oh, that thought makes me sad. Make time slow down!)
After an hour or so it was getting awful hot and everyone was ready for lunch, so we packed up and headed home. Our home. Our real home. (We met Collin and Papa there and all went out to lunch.) A perfect ending to a good morning.
Happy weekend, everyone!