My mother and I went strawberry picking the other day and the place was packed full with Lexus-driving, Perrier-swigging yuppie families. It's an interesting phenomenon, this physical-labour tourism. Our ancestors used to work the land to survive, and now we do it for fun. Could it be that the cerebral nature of our daily lives makes us crave this less intellectually-demanding form of stimulation? Or is it the desire to reconnect with our roots, to show that despite our dependence on technologies and all the comforts they provide, we are still capable of getting our own sustenance? I know why I do it--these two big baskets cost us $11, so not only did we have a fun outing, but we saved money.
Anyway, here they are, the fruits of our labour: (I'll give you all a minute to laugh at that one.)
2 comments:
OMG Leora I fucking wig out with exams and middle ear infections and holy hell you have updated your blog 3 TIMES! Why do momentous events like this always happen while I am not paying attention? Hot damn.
Ear infections suck. On Friday, after a swim, I had some water stuck in my ear, so I went on the internet to find out how to get it out, and then got scared that I'd have some bacteria lodged up there so I'd get an infection.
So I hopped up and down on one leg in the washroom of Gerstein, hitting my head on the side, until the water came out. Except now I'm worried that when I was hopping around without my sandals, a cut on one of my toes got infected because it looks sort of gross now.
And I'm updating to avoid working on a paper. Is there no better reason to blog?
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