It's starting to become an (almost) annual tradition for the obvious reason that I love cherries so much I choose to ignore the fact that the cost of personally picking and buying them from the orchard after petrol and dining out far exceeds the perceived steepness of the price buying them outright at the fruit shop.
I mean, I get it. By all means, the math doesn't add up. Or it does, but the equation is all wrong.
But.
I love cherry picking. And I especially love the freshness of the cherries straight off the tree. Raven and I have decided to grow one but we still have to buy the tree and I'm not even doing so well with my apple tree so goodluck with that.
It's always a memorable experience, though, cherry picking. It's one of those things I want her to remember me by. As well as the people we share the experience with.
Like her auntie, in this case. That time two years ago we went to CherryHill Orchards at Wandin East. Jeff couldn't come but my sister was happy to drive so I was a happy passenger princess.
*Raven at 6 years old
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