Kistaro Windrider, Reptillian Situation Assessor (kistaro) wrote,
Kistaro Windrider, Reptillian Situation Assessor

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All right, so I'm a bit slow in writing things to my journal. This, for example, is what happened yesterday. But I have an excuse! I was tired! And... umm... never mind the number of forum posts I cranked out. I was still tired and... y'know, I'll give that up right there.

So my parents have been hauling me back from Washington University on Thursdays now, since I have no class on Friday and my meal plan has been totally demolished by my opting to actually eat vaguely healthy food, or as close to it as is possible at Washington University (in other words: not very possible). It tends to run up a bill- bacon cheeseburger and fries and soda cost less that one small salad. Anyway, the upshot to this is that I'm not getting much of a chance to be on AIM (I can't at home, as my parents still forbid its usage and my computer is in a non-private location; it's much easier to hide a LiveJournal window than an AIM window), but it is in other ways vaguely more interesting here than on campus, so... yeah.

Anyway, my parents and I went to Eckert's up in Illinois to go do the pick-your-own peaches thing, and then to the nearby Brautegan's Orchards to do pick-your-own blackberries.

Eckert's wasn't particularly notable. Ride wagon-tractor-thing to orchard, get told which rows are ripe, pick for a while, swat bugs, try to choose peaches with a minimum of hail damage, go back. Nothing out of the ordinary, except we picked twice as many peaches as we ususally buy. Peach smoothies, anyone?

Brautegan's was interesting. Only my mother actually does blackberry picking there; they've got too much poison ivy for me or my father, both of us extremely sensitive to it, to pick. (Last time my father touched poison ivy, he got a four-inch wide, one-inch tall blister on the back of his hand for about a month. Then it popped. It wasn't the only blister, either, but it was, thankfully, the largest one.) So while my mother went picking, my father and I waited behind at the benches.

There are a couple of resident cats at Brautegan's. Not particularly healthy cats; their job is to reduce the mouse problem, which I've heard they do admirably, but they also do an admirable job of being a home to a wide variety of fleas. By how scrawny the cats were, probably intestinal parisites as well.

I like cats. Really, I do. I've got kittenbreak on my friends list. Cats, although I am allergic to them, are cute and fuzzy. But it is still not that great a thing to have an unfamillialliar cat, non-declawed, expected to have fleas, jump onto the bench beside you, walk over you like another bump in the road, then walk back and stick its tail pretty much up your nose.

On the other hand, by coming a week early, we got the best blackberry harvest from there we've ever gotten. Mmm. Blackberries.

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