After blueberry picking, my daughter is now baking a blueberry rhubarb pie. She's making it gluten free for me. I am content to write on the couch...not actually on the couch, but to sit on it and write on my computer...not on computer, with it. Grammar girl where are you? My son sits next to me re-designing my website (coming soon). Is this way too domestic? Where has my party girl gone?
Blue berry log: Day one, hike into mountains behind house. Weather: sunny with flies. Get gross red welts on neck, like a vampire tried to give me a hicky. Also get two quarts of berries. Day two, rain kept the flies away, so did a strong bug spray. It's the only major toxin I indulge in. PIck three quarts of berries.