Berry, Berry Embarrassing
On our walks we’ve noticed thorny berry laden bushes by the side of the road. One day my husband asked someone on the street, “Are these berries edible?”
The man looked at him strangely and said, “Yeah. They’re blackberries.”
That’s all we needed to know. We spent a week casing the berry situation. I didn’t want to pick any berries that were right by the roadside. My husband thought that was because of pollution, but, honestly, it had more to do with embarrassment. We found a few spots were we could wonder back off the road and picked berries.
On Sunday we set out with a container to pick berries. Here’s the thing about picking berries just off the road, even though no one could see me, I still felt embarrassed. I just felt like I shouldn’t be doing it. So my husband picked most of the berries while I stood there feeling nervous.
“You’re really embarrassed about doing this,” my husband said to me, when I told him to stop picking berries because I thought someone was coming.
“I’m mortified,” I said.
“The funny thing is I bet you’ll write about this on the blog,” he laughed.
Of course he was right.
April 8th, 2010 at 9:59 pm
[...] Side Note: My husband saved all the grit and dust that fell from the wall when he tried to put the anchor in. He wants to take it to the hardware store with him and ask an employee there if they know what type of material it is. I don’t think they’ll know. He seems to think I’ll be going with him on this trip, but I don’t want to wander into a hardware store with a plastic container of what looks like sand and ask someone what they think it is. That would be even more embarrassing than picking black berries. [...]