Wrangling Youths

My friend Mary claims "wrangling youths" as her job description - she, like me, works as a camp counselor during the summer.  Both of us have begun our jobs and will probably not contact one another until the dog days of August when we'll begin preparing for our senior year of undergrad.

Camp is a four-letter word where I'm working.  The kids are not "campers," they are "scholars."  The staff refers to the "residential high school summer enrichment program."  We provide mandatory convocations and a diverse film series.

So basically, it's nerd camp.

I attended as a junior in high school and began working last summer.  It's not a bad gig - there's always someone around to practice French, to make me laugh, to intimidate me with his vast lexicon...  A learning experience.

In addition to RAing, I'm considering career options, researching internships and jobs in the US and abroad.  Why did I purchase an LSAT study guide?  And why haven't I learned Chinese yet?

Also, I have created a summer (read: hopeful) reading list.

Take that, C-J.

The shameful selection of comics in the Courier-Journal has led me to search for my morning rigolo elsewhere. Here are some links from webcomics of which I've recently become a fan:

Amazing Super Powers
The Perry Bible Fellowship
Wondermark

I might search for French comics, but gallic humor sometimes eludes me.

The day was called on account of rain.

A few nights ago, as I sat in the kitchen thumbing through dinner recipes, my little brother passed by on his way to work and announced, "Thursday, my friends and I are going to pick strawberries at Huber's."

I love Joe Huber's Family Farm. A slew of childhood memories floods my mind when I hear the name: riding around on hot, dusty flatbed trucks to fields where my family picked gallons of ripe U-Pick strawberries, blackberries, peaches, apples, and pumpkins; my stomach jumping as my brothers sent me skyward on the enormous painted green see-saws; the honeyed, fermented redolence of the traditional country store; falling off tire-horse swings into a spread of itchy-soft hay; making sure to pet every last goat in petting zoo; eating another fried biscuit for just one more blissful taste of homemade apple butter...

I looked up from the heart-healthy cookbook I had in hand and met Chris's eyes. We were both silent for a moment, staring at each other.

"Am I invited?" I asked. "My friends invited you." "Because it's not okay to tell someone about your awesome plans if you're not planning on - your friends invited me? I'm invited? YES."

Of course, he followed with an "I'll let you know what we're doing," a gentle way of declaring that I had better maintain a minimum proximity in my relationships with his pals. Nobody likes big sister crashing the fruit-gathering fête.

So on this drizzly Thursday morning, I'm waiting to learn if my presence has been deemed Too Embarrassing to be a team member on the berry-hunting expedition. If so, I might just stow away in the backseat anyway: the "freaky" berries and the jam I'll make with them will be worth it.

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5 June: Update

Ended up picking $28.74 worth of berries in perfect sunny weather today. Photographic evidence with my cousin Danny and me below:

We made two batches of freezer jam with what's missing out of the box in my right hand.