"In words, like weeds, I'll wrap me o'er,
Like coarsest clothes against the cold"

—Tennyson

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Tuesday we were back to the raspberry patch, filling bowls full of fresh, red berries. Charlotte fell in the mud and cried, and tried to come after me through the brambles and cried some more. Isaiah found a snail and a green leaf bug and a few red strawberries.

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