I had one of those "Oh, yea, that's why" moments today & thought I would start a thread so others could share their stories.
I was just finishing up bottling the Strawberry Rhubarb wine when my wife says "I am going to go pick the RED raspberries," meaning "Don't forget it is your job to pick the BLACK raspberries." I rushed to cleanup & get outside. As I reached to get the baskets I thought, "My momma didn't raise no fools. I need a long sleeve shirt." Got my shirt & headed to the berry patch.
Berries were large & plentiful. Soon I was reaching way into the patch & shuffling closer. That's when I remembered I was wearing shorts. I also remembered I wore shorts picking berries in the heatwave last year, but couldn't remember why I stopped, so I pressed on using the rubber boots to move the branches. Maybe Momma did raise a fool.
Slowly I worked my way into the patch. Nudging this branch, stepping over that one. Soon I was in the middle. That is when I heard the sound. Not "A sound", but THE sound. THE sound every berry picker knows & dreads: the sound of a hive emptying. Well, three steps & twice as many bites later I was a 20 yards from the berry patch & moving fast. That's when I remembered why I stopped picking berries in shorts.