Cherries, Bare Naked Butt, and Hot Air Balloons

It is cherry season at our humble abode. What? You've never picked cherries? You've never pitted cherries? You've never made anything with fresh, rather than canned gooey cherries? Oh my. Then you don't know what it's like around here right now.

May I just say right now, that I do not blame George Washington one bit for chopping down that darn cherry tree when he was a child. If he was the one who had to pick and pit each cherry, then he was well justified in doing so.


My arms are sticky from cherry juice running down them. My hair has bird crap in it from climbing into the cherry tree. My fingernails are permanently brown from cherry pulp. The sight of limp white worms dead inside of cherries no longer bothers me.

The cherry ordeal started soon after we bought our house. Aaron looked at the tree and ascertained that it was a tart cherry tree. We picked and pitted a few gallons that year. The next year, the ordeal began in earnest. Spraying the tree for bugs. Chasing the birds away. Picking every single cherry within reach. Pitting every single cherry that was picked. Three days of nothing but cherries. We picked about 10 gallons of cherries that year. This year, the ordeal was very similar. Aaron adn I are both dreaming of the cherry tree these days. I dream of cutting it down. He dreams of all the scrumptious things I can make for him. Sigh.

For all the bad things about cherry picking season, there are some good things about it. For one thing, it's a very social time. Night before last, our neighbors came over and picked and pitted with us for a while. A good time was had by all. Yesterday, my Lisa (the lovely, pitting experienced, joyous, and amazing babysitter extrordinaire) stayed for an extra hour to help me pit cherries. Last night, Chris came over and helped to pit cherries. HE also entertained my Hethan, who adores "Mr. Chris."

So, there's more to this post than complaining about cherries, in case you can't tell by the title. :)

When Chris arrived yesterday, Hethan was naked in the backyard. Yep. Bare. Naked. Bright White. It all started because I told him that he either had to come inside and take a bath or I was going to hose him down with the garden hose. He stripped and said, "Hose me down!" So I went to get his bathing stuff, thinking he would change his mind. He didn't. So I started after him with a washcloth. Just then, my cell phone rang. It was my neighbor, Angel, informing me that my child was naked and that I no longer lived in Georgia. As we were giggling about this, Hethan grabbed the hose and squirted me in the butt! Then he turned the hose on Aaron, who was up in the top of the cherry tree. I then plopped him in the siwmming pool and hosed him down. A good time was had by all. :)

After the hosing down of the Hethan, he was ushered inside to get jammified and to read books. Aaron read him one, and then Mr. Chris read him one. Then he was tucked in and I stayed to tell him a story. As we were settling in for our story, Aaron yelled, "Jenette, get down here, quick! And bring Ethan with you!" So of course, I scooped him up and ran down the stairs.

A hot air balloon was landing on the corner! It was the coolest thing! They meant to land there! Our whole neighborhood came out to see the balloon and to talk to the people in the balloon. We had a good time talking to our neigbors and exclaiming over the neat balloon. Then the Hethan had to go back to bed, and the rest of the night was uneventful.



Cherries, Bare Naked Butt, and Hot Air Balloons. Doesn't get much better than that, huh?