12 Jul

I’ve been trying to spend at least one weekend day Idadventuring around the good ol’ gem state. Even though I grew up here, my parents were more of the read-and-play-board-games variety, instead of the ski-camp-hike variety that is more native to Idaho. Which was FINE with me, but it meant we never explored much outside of a ten mile radius. Which is maybe part of why I still get lost in Boise, despite having lived here 10+ years (also, I have the directional memory of a goldfish, but whatever).

So despite insane gas prices and insane heat, Idadventuring has been fantastic. I am still enjoying the fruits of last weekend’s adventure: cherry picking! Ok, not exactly evil kenieval style adventure, that, but we braved birds and bees and got berries! [sidenote: I went cherry picking with Stephen, Raluca and Raluca’s husband Rob. As Raluca and I were chatting in front of the cherry weighing station, we see Rob start violently whacking the owner of the orchard with the top of a cardboard box (which were there to help transport cherries). Raluca was like, WHAT THE FUCK ROB (it looked like the guy had seriously insulted Rob’s mom, from the beating he was taking), but it turned out the guy had a huge bee on his back. He had given Rob permission to de-bee his back, since the orchard owner is deathly allergic (he showed us the epi-pen on his belt even). A former NYC firefighter, Rob is not one to do anything half-ass, hence the whacks. It just looked extra violent, because it was on the guy’s back, so the scene looked like the orchard owner was cowering in fear, as Rob snucked up and got medieval on him. But how much does it suck to own a family orchard and be allergic to bees?]

with a white hand and a cherry tree

stop crying for food, dumbly birdies. NATURE'S CANDY IS ALL AROUND YOU

Walking through the trees, hearing other pickers talk, it seemed we were the only native English speakers there. A lot of Eastern European sounding languages, and a lot of big families just picnicking under trees, lazily picking cherries and drinking wine. It reminded me of the strawberry picking scene in Emma (holla Jane Austen nerds!). So, you go Emmett, Idaho! Get down with your multicultural farm-counrty badass self!


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