Rather, I picked raspberries and the children just held the baskets for me.

Maybe there were too many bees buzzing around. I told the boys that they won’t sting you unless you hurt them, but they were very wary of picking after seeing all the bees. And it was very hot. We spent about a half hour picking raspberries, but it felt much, much longer.

Alpha just wanted to go home.

I had to carry Gamma the whole time because I did not want to clean squished raspberries off every surface within his reach. I did set him down at the beginning – because he did a fine job at blueberry picking – to see if he would help with raspberry picking. But it took one raspberry to see the damage he could do.

And Beta just wasn’t interested in picking berries. Worse than that, he was actively taking berries out of the basket and throwing them as far as he could.

I asked him why he was doing that, and he said he was getting rid of the squishy ones. He meant well, trying to weed out the bad berries. But, as Alpha then reminded him, all raspberries are squishy. I told him just to leave all the raspberries alone and I would sort them at home.

We finally finished, after about 20 reminders to the kids that the more berries they pick, the faster we’ll be done and the sooner we can go back home.

Did I mention it was hot?

Back home, I sorted the raspberries and found a stowaway.

I quickly disposed of him, and any raspberries that had any dark fuzzy spots. Those went in the garbage. Any raspberries that were not moldy but were just on the too-ripe side of things I also disposed of. Those went in my belly.

And now, some gratuitous close-up shots of fruit, compliments of the macro setting on my camera…

In case you’re wondering about the trends in U-pick berries: 3.25 lbs. cost $12.50, so that’s about $3.85 per lb. Last year, they cost $3.75/lb. So it looks like raspberries cost more this year, and blueberries cost less this year.

Side note: When my wife was looking up U-Pick places, we wondered what else could be U-picked. So after a little research, we found a U-pick chicken farm. They also have U-pick rabbits and U-pick fish.

I wish someone would have a drive-thru u-pick place. I would donate them some letters so they could upgrade to a drive-through you-pick place.

We had 3 buckets for the 5 of us. Yes, even Gamma picked berries. Some off the bushes, some off the ground…

It was raining when we started, but it tapered off before we were halfway through. The nice part about that was that the blueberries were then already rinsed when we picked them. But my wife rinsed them in the sink once we got home anyway. No, not actually in the sink…in the colander which was in the sink.

We wound up with 9.5 lbs. of blueberries. And the total came to $14.06. It was really more like 10 lbs. of blueberries, because there was at least half a pound in the boys’ tummies by the time we checked out.

Let’s see… $14.06 / 9.5 = $1.48 per pound. That seems to be on the better side of the average U-pick price for blueberries.

The only downside is that’s too many blueberries to eat at once. Well, we could try that, but the baby’s still in diapers and I do not want to deal with that. So we froze a few pounds of blueberries and we’ll enjoy them in the fall and winter.

Next up: raspberries! Should be ready for picking in a week or so.

For my birthday, my wife bought me a box of chocolate-covered strawberries. Not just any chocolate-covered strawberries, but the gourmet kind.

What makes them gourmet?

The price.

And they were very good.

There were a variety of flavors.
And the berries were wee not-so-wee huge:

That metal object on the right is a quarter. A regulation-size US 25-cent piece.

And I liked their packaging. They were humorous without going overboard.

There was one subtle part:

And one not-as-subtle part:

But…

(There seems to be a downside to just about everything)

You have to eat the strawberries by the end of the second day, otherwise they go bad. It’s not like a regular box of chocolates, where you can eat a couple a day and enjoy them all week. By the third day the strawberries were starting to be not so good anymore. They weren’t moldy or rotten (we left them in the fridge). I thought they were starting to ferment. My wife said they tasted “zippy”, which I thought was an accurate description.

My experience is that strawberries need to breathe. If we store strawberries in a sealed container in the fridge, they go bad a lot quicker (such as overnight) than if their container has some air holes. There seems to be a balance, because leaving them completely uncovered lets them dry out too much.

Other people have other ideas about how to store strawberries. They seem to involve not breathing but draining. Either set the strawberries in a strainer/colander so that they aren’t resting in their juices or store them on paper towels so the juices get absorbed.

Either way, I think chocolate is not the optimum coating for preserving strawberries. It neither breathes not drains. So the strawberries don’t last so long.

In conclusion, if the only problem is that you have to eat them fast, that’s not a bad problem to have.

Oh, and the reason my wife bought them is because she had a coupon for $10 off, and she also got free shipping. They were still expensive, but not ridiculously expensive.

“What?!” I responded, “You can’t have chocolate for breakfast. How about some cereal? Here, have some, umm, Cocoa Krispies.”

Inspired by that transaction, I grabbed the camera and the glass bowl that held most of the chocolate, and I setup a photo shoot.

Here, without further introduction, is my Easter breakfast:

And here is a close-up shot of the contents:

Ideally, the chocolates would be unwrapped. And if I had time I was going to add some milk in the bowl (virtually, using Photo-Paint) as that would make the visual even better (yes, I said Photo-Paint and not Photoshop).

But I didn’t. So you’ll just have to imagine it.

Easter, on the other hand, is just chocolate. Sure, some chocolate makers might fill the chocolate eggs with things such as peanut butter, Butterfingers, or cream (creme? crème?), but it’s all centered around chocolate.

Or worse than that – they fill the chocolate with air. “Hollow” is just a marketing term. Because really, who would buy air-filled chocolate? It makes it sound like a tire.

All that chocolate at Easter would be overwhelming if you’re not prepared for it. My wife has been buying chocolate so that we’ll be well-stocked when the big day arrives. I have been using the Stash O’ Chocolate to train.

Oh yes, you need to train for that day. Just diving into all that chocolate cold turkey could cause problems. Your body isn’t ready for it. Hmm…maybe “cold turkey” wasn’t the best phrase to pair with “chocolate”.

I have been gearing up. The training starts back in October and peaks on January 1st. Then it’s mostly maintenance through February and March. Now we’re on the home stretch so I’ve been increasing my chocolate intake each day. Saturday will be just a few bits of chocolate – a stretch and warm-up if you will.

I think I’m ready.

On an unrelated note: spring break is next week and I think I’ll start my spring/summer running program then. Run for half the year, eat chocolate for half the year. I think it’s a good balance.

On a related note: yes, I took the headline from Stuff Christians Like.

That rule-o’-thumb could be a problem, because Cocoa Pebbles is a certified Good Cereal but it changes the color of the milk.

How do we resolve that conflict?

I’m glad you asked. The solution is to pour a bowl of Cocoa Pebbles and then pour chocolate milk into the bowl. Now the cereal will no longer change the color of the milk. For Trix or Boo Berry you could use strawberry milk.

You can have your cereal and eat it too.

Arby’s was on the way home from the ice-hockey tournament at which we were spectating, so we used the convenient drive-through ordering thingy. My wife is a fan of whatever restaurants’ value meals, so she ordered value-meal roast-beef sandwiches for everyone. Everyone except me. I was driving, so that meant I had to give the order to the Metal Pole Which Speaks. I ordered a regular roast-beef sandwich for myself.

We noted that the value-meal sandwiches were $1 each but the normal sandwich was $3 (I think the actual prices were $0.99 and $2.79, in case you care). So, if the value meals were really a better value, they would be comparable to the regular sandwich.

What do you think?

Yes, you can order three of the small sandwiches for about the same price as one normal sandwich, but all you will be doing is filling up your tummy with cheap bread. It looks to me like the regular sandwich has the same amount of meat as three of the measly sandwiches. The value-meal sandwich is not a value. I propose they should call them cheap-meal sandwiches because they are cheaper but not a better value.

On the other hand, they don’t claim it is a better value, just that it is a value. The measly sandwiches do have a value – about 1/3 that of the regular sandwich.

My wife found a food tip in Family Fun magazine: people stuck spaghetti into hot dogs sections to make sea creatures. I forget what they called them – the only thing I remember is thinking that I had yet another weapon to add to my culinary arsenal.

I’m up to four now, I think.

The article showed that you are supposed to stick uncooked spaghetti noodles into the end of a section of hot dog. The noodles go right into the soft hot dog with no problem. Then you boil the whole thing and the meat and noodles get cooked at the same time.

Do not, I repeat, do not, try to cook the spaghetti first and then push it into the hot dog.

Also note: the part of the noodle that is in the hot dog does not cook very quickly. So when the visible noodles are done, the hidden noodles are still crunchy. And if you cook the concoction long enough so that the noodle roots are done, the rest of the noodle is mushy. It may take practice to get the right balance.

We tried two methods. The first was not the method prescribed by the magazine – my wife kept the noodles in the plane perpendicular to the axis of the hot dog. (She stuck them in sideways)

The second method was the official one – noodles parallel with the hot dog.

The first method was tricky to cook. That’s a vote for the second method right there. Plus some of the method-one noodles broke during the cooking process. Some shattered due to just being fragile and having to awkwardly support the weight of the hot dog. Others were sheared somehow, leaving hints of noodle at the skin of the hot dog.

For visual presentation, assuming all the noodles stayed intact, I preferred the first method. Spacing the noodles allowed them to remain separate. The method-two noodles just clumped together and reminded me of hair in the shower drain. Appetizing, I know.

As far as the kids were concerned…they didn’t care or even notice the difference between the two methods. They were too busy eating them.

Even Gamma knew that they were yummy. Even though we hadn’t cooked them yet, he somehow knew they were food and kept trying to get them. It wouldn’t have been a problem except I was holding him while I was trying to take pictures. Perhaps the following explains why I settled for blurry/shadowy pictures for this post:

We still haven’t decided what exactly they are. The choices so far are

• scrawny octopi,
• two-tone squid, or
• nervous jellyfish

(I opted for plain “jellyfish” but Alpha settled on “nervous jellyfish”. I don’t know why it’s nervous, other than it knows it’s about to be eaten)

Side note: In case you’re wondering about today’s verse – yes they were venison hot dogs.

Steaks are always welcome, but they were raw at that point, so I asked how she was going to cook them.

“Either boiled or fried” was the response.

Boiled? Ugh. No thanks. I’m sure it would make the meat safe to eat, but that’s just not right. Save the boiling for hot dogs. Although . . . I usually just microwave those.

Fried? Maybe, but a steak deserves better than that.

“Alright,” I said, “I’ll grill them.” You know it’s bad when I volunteer to cook. But steak is a treat, and I was home because of the holiday, so why not?

“In this weather? It’s snowing out there!”

“It’s not so bad. Besides, the grill will keep me warm.”

Here is what grilling on New Year’s Eve in the Midwest looks like:

While I was grilling, my wife was making the potatoes. Rather, she was trying to make the potatoes. She had a bag of potatoes, and the bag claimed that all one needed to do was microwave the bag and the potatoes would be cooked.

However, after being microwaved and put into a bowl to be mashed, the potatoes looked like this:

My wife knew that potatoes are not supposed to be green. Thanks to the internet, she confirmed that green potatoes are very bad.

So she threw them out and considered calling the company to complain about their attempted poisoning bad potatoes.

The best part about the meal was when the kids sat down to dinner and Alpha exclaimed “Steak! I love steak!” Get ‘em started young.

The second-best part was that there was a steak or two left over. A breakfast later during the holiday consisted of steak and eggs.

Then the guy next to me went. He ordered the same sandwich I had picked for myself. Arrgh…I hate it when that happens.

But that’s okay, because he still has to pick out a side dish. There’s no way he would pick the same side as I.

(And yes, I do try to have good grammar even in my thoughts.)

Then he picked the same side dish that I had chosen.

I was torn, oh so torn, as to whether I should change my order.

I could get the coleslaw instead. That would make it a different order.

But I decided to stick with my original order. And you know what? It tasted just fine and was not affected by the fact that the guy next to me was eating the same thing.

My wife doesn’t understand why it’s a big deal what other people order at the restaurant. I know I’m not the only one like that. It doesn’t matter if the other person knows what I’m ordering (”steals my order” after hearing me order it) or just randomly gets the same thing (as in this case). Either way, I am troubled by it.

But why? I haven’t figured that out yet. Maybe it’s a desire to be unique, to be myself. But why can’t myself be similar to someone else?

Random Life Tip : When you put dishes away from the dishwasher, unload the bottom rack first before even pulling out the top rack. If, just hypothetically speaking here, there were a bowl in the top rack that was upside-up and so it got filled with water because it couldn’t drain, you wouldn’t want that bowl to spill water all over the formerly-dry dishes in the bottom rack. Not that it would ever happen to me.