This is a very late post because the sky is threatening thunderstorm and I had to pick raspberries before the clouds burst.

I've come to the conclusion that picking raspberries in my disorderly patch is a form of guerilla yoga. One must assume uncomfortable yet well-balanced positions, frequently semi-upside-down or leaning forward on bended knee. Calm and deep breaths are required if one is to hold such a position without tipping over sideways and smashing fruit, breaking branches, and/or spilling the loot. Likewise, the harvester must exhibit fortitude among raspy thorns and mosquitoes that choose to bite at the exact moment when one's hands are overflowing with delicate squashable berries.

Later today I will pickle beans and possibly make a raspberry pie. First, however, there must be copyediting, and then some more copyediting, and then possibly a trip to the bank.

For some reason, the phrase "supernaturally mundane" springs to mind. I wonder what my unreliable brain is up to this time.