Our poor pretty landscape.
The Robson Valley is between the Rocky Mountain Range (to the north), and the Cariboo Mountains.
Among Valley residents, what we think of as "our" river originates from Mt. Robson. That's the Fraser River.
The scarred mountainside just above our
neighbour's horse arena. Photo looks northwest.
Our acreage is on the far right, the right, about mid-view. You can see how close it came to homes and other structures. We were lucky May 5, 2023.
Photo looks north and east.
View of a "tiny" section of the Rocky Mountains, Photo looks approximately south.
🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓(okay, those are strawberries )
I picked raspberries until almost dark last night. I have gotten behind with the picking.
Aside from having a ten day holiday (which include four days of driving 🤷🏼♀️), we have been busy, and I have been off the acreage a couple of days since then.
I started picking again at 6 am, and it was going well. In my harvesting reverie, I thought, "There must be lots of bees out in the sunshine now.
Nope … lots of wasps were out. I could hear that Gary was out on the tractor, so I dealt with the ground nest as well as I could … lots of spray from quite a distance.
At this point, Gary needed my help to move some ungodly heavy barrels of coal, so I drove the tractor while he provided the might.
I must get back to picking raspberries as far from the stupid wasp nest as possible. Perhaps I only enraged them. 🤞😬
When one is down among the canes, there seems to be more berries than pictured. At this time, I'm selling 'em faster (in Facebook) than I can pick them. 😋
I'm sure there is more for me to tell you, but I must get moving.
Hope your day is calm and free from anything or anyone who would harm us.
~ Ann
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