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It was time for our annual berry-picking/jam  making.  Word from the berry farm was that they would have two weeks of berries left.  We thought we'd wait till the second week when our schedule was a little less crazy.  When we got there, the barn was CLOSED.  So I knocked on the door.  It was true.  The woman who runs the farm with her husband said they were done for the year.  I got back into the car and we headed toward home. We were all bummed.  Zach and Emma cried.  I pulled over and found the number for the farm.  I called, explaining to the lady that even though she just told me they weren't picking any more berries, we would pay her a couple of dollars to just pick a handful, to appease the disappointed kids.  (And their disappointed mother.)  All of us like the picking as much as we like the berries.  She was a saint, and said we could pick two pints.  I was so grateful.  It was so fun.  One of my top 5 favorite things about Rochester, to be sure.  So I didn't feel too guilty when we snuck off to the bushes and she told other two other cars that they were closed.  Zach and Emma were great pickers and Carter was a great eater.  He already knew the word "berry" and put it to good use in between mouthfuls.  And to top it all off, after we added a little apple juice, we had enough berries for a batch of freezer jam.  Happy day!