lobolance

Last week I discovered a blackberry bramble off the trail, near the velodome; a place where the creek has retreated over the last couple years (see: a zillion invading reeds), and hence, the bramble has invaded. I'd climbed over a log just to see what was there, further out, and found the berries.

So today I returned to the same spot, armed with an empty tortilla bag. And proceeded to pick a couple handfuls of small and tasty berries, using an old cane to help guard my legs. A little anyhow. I rinsed the berries in water (park faucet; did you know you have to let the water run for a MINUTE to make sure it's not germ filled??). And there I was with damp berries in damp bag.

Not big enough to wind up and knot over my handlebars. Too big really to go in my emergency-supply-filled crossbar bag. Of course; into my spare pocket. And away I went, pushing myself; it's late in the season and I'm looking to be as fit as possible for next month's event.

Got to work. Pulled the bag out of my pocket... and berry juice went flying. Ooops. Clearly, I am ten years old (up from eight! inside joke). So I wiped up with cached paper towels, and then hit the showered. Rinsed my shorts. And my work badge, cleverly tucked in the pocket below the berry carrier.

Tasty berries later!