Well, I got my hair cut. Short. Super short. I wanted something different. Something sassy and easy to care for. I like it.

One of my friends has a birthday tomorrow so I was trying really hard to do something silly for her birthday. I sent a message with happy birthday in teeny tiny letters. Then I sent another one in a larger font and had it delayed in sending until tonite at seven I think. Hee hee this is going to be good. Send another one in larger font to be delivered at 9 tonite. Send another in larger font for early tomorrow morning. Giggle. I can just hear her wondering what I am up to. Now for the grand finale!!!! LARGE font with lots of !!!!! and the Beatles singing "It's your birthday!!! Send. Yay yah, oops. I forgot to delay the sending. She got that message right after the first teeny tiny font happy birthday. So much for cleverness. Can I blame it on menopause?

Raspberry jelly

I know where the name comes from. Those vines are like rasps. They can really scratch.

I have a question. Why was I out picking raspberries for jelly making on a day that is supposed to get in the 90's?

Am I still a fan of berries or have the old memories of yesteryear come crashing back on me? It is up in the air. I have a feeling that picking berries in the heat of the day may be sort of like child birth. Now I know that is an odd analogy but the memory of childbirth fades over time and I have a feeling that the memory of the scratchy, itchy, hot work fades too by the time the next berry season rolls around. If it didn't I think that there might be fewer kids and less berry picking. :-)

I myself had very easy labors compared to other stories that I heard. You know the ones of endless hours of labor? My labor with my first born started around midnight and he was born at around 7 the next morning. My second son was even faster. In fact the doctor didn't even have time to wash his hands before the little one popped out and was literally caught in mid air.

I always swore I would never be one of those women that sat around telling horror stories to younger women about the ordeal of childbirth. It scared the soup out of me when I was a young bride. Maybe being childless wouldn't be so bad. Luckily after 7 years of marriage and the fact that my younger sister gave birth to a healthy boy and survived, I decided to go for it.

Now my children are my joys and I couldn't imagine my life without them. I guess I just answered my question too. I was out there picking berries for the love of my family and the chance to give them something that I made for them with the sweat of my brow (and all other body parts) and the love in my heart for them. I think that is where a lot of things begin.

We come full circle.