TIERRA REJADA RD.

yesterday, i drove my mom and my grandma to moorpark. long drive. i was surprised my mom let me, considering she clings to the car door/ceiling if she's not the one driving. it's amazing how sensitive one can get to her arm slooowly reaching for the door handle out of the corner of one eye. it was fun. freeways, nice place to visit, nightmare to live on.

we went to the farm. i'd been looking forward to it all weekend long. there were no boyzenberries, so it wasn't hard tearing myself away from those vines this time. but search for strawberries was fruitful (no pun intended, really). my grandma waited by my red wagon while my mom and i picked our rows clean. every two minutes, my mom would yell across a family or two from five rows away, to not pick too many because we were only passing through to get to the raspberries. i don't know which one of us she was trying to convince.

so after about an hour, my mom comes back and she just sits in my wagon yelling, "saaamiiiiiiiiiin!!!!! let's goo!" every time, i'd just look up, smile, and go back down. too bad sina wasn't there, i had to eat sooo many strawberries all by myself. ya, i know, whata drag.
the site of my mom screaming her head off from far away is something precious though. it makes strawberry picking so much more enjoyable.

i know it's a stretch when there are no boyzenberries, or cilantro, or apricots, but it's still well worth the drive. i was telling my mom, it's like going to church, the sermon for that week may suck ass, but that doesn't mean you stop going altogether. she said (as closely as i can put down): hmph.