No Yarn Here. Move Along.

My lovely Durwood is having the time of his life harvesting his hand-me-up raspberries. Our DS got them from his friend's dad and planted them behind the duplex. Then DS and his beloved moved first to California and then to Montana, both waaaay too far away for convenient berry harvesting, so dear ol' Dad inherited them. So far this year he has made 9 jars of preserves, a raspberry pie, too many bowls of vanilla ice cream and fresh raspberries to count, and I just carried some downstairs and put them in the freezer. He's in seventh heaven.