There are times when nothing goes as you planned. We had looked forward, with so much anticipation, to cherry picking this year, remembering fondly the magnificent black cherries from last year. But this year was a little different.
We had to wake up and get out the door early. Imagine how much the kids just loved that, especially my teens.
The farm was packed full of people, many with ladders.
Worst of all, the wet weather and storms had damaged most of the sweet cherry crop. Most of the luscious black cherries hung on the branches, split open, already starting to rot. Most of those industrious people with ladders were able to quickly pick the choicest fruit, not encumbered by adorable toddlers or baby is slings, or just plain being a kid. We despaired a bit as we could count exactly how many cherries were in each bag. The older kids lamented and Kay was very concerned. We decided to try the sour cherries.
I've never cooked with sour cherries. All I knew was they are smaller and well, sour. These trees were so pretty. Every one of them full with bright red cherries that even the little girls could easily reach. So we picked. Kay was so worried she didn't pick enough. I still wasn't quite sure if I could make anything good with them.
Then was there was the weeping about not going to McDonald's. Kay in particular found it very tragic.
The pies were made as soon as we got home. A quick trip to the pool. Nachos for dinner. Papa came home just as we were ready to sample my first cherry pie, ever. He sits down and asks how the cherry picking went.
Without missing a beat, Kay proclaims, "Oh Papa! It was AWESOME!"