After enduring weeks and months of freakishly cold, wet weather, it seems that summer is finally here.  The berries are not as nice this year, at least the strawberries aren't we are hoping the blueberries will not be spoiled by the wet spring.

Rolf took Freyja berry picking at Sauvie Island on Wednesday, which was a nice break from the babysitter for her.  They also stopped at Reader Beach and got to visit Mr. Biggie, a cat friend, as well as some chickens that live at the RV camp there. 

Our fridge is loaded with raspberries which I should freeze, but I am hoping the kids will eat them up before I have to deal with them.

On Saturday I made a salmon  for dinner, which felt like a summerly thing to cook. 

I personally find fish repulsive, but the rest of the fam really likes it, so there you go, fish it was, and corn on the cob and chocolate cream pie.

and some ice wine, a Riesling from Idaho, in an antique coupe for Mommy for dessert.

I normally do not drink sweet wines but this was a nice one and it went perfectly with the berries.

I don't know how my tiny baby got so big, and I really don't know where those long legs came from!

A friend that lives in the country asked if people that live in the city keep their houses clean so they can have their doors open, without passers by seeing the mess.  Clearly the answer is-

not me

Our door remains open in summer and people can look right in and see my mess, which is mostly a big pile of books and stuffed animals, and a ratty sofa with a tacky slipcover. 

I have no secrets,

or pride, apparently. 

 As is her way, Miss F was up at dawn, plotting her Sunday adventures. 
She got to have two friends over, which was super exciting. 

These two are zombie, vampire rats, that cannot be photographed, as you can see here, by the closed eyes, and the faux marabou trimmed princess dress. 
They were out front blowing that whistle, and screeching to beat the band at 10:00am, which I felt not one ounce of remorse for, as the neighbors next door had a really LOUD party all day Saturday and by Saturday evening one of the guest was pretty drunk and was suffering from a bad case of potty mouth.  Which we could hear both inside our house and outside on our deck.
He was making me uncomfortable, which is hard to do. 
At one point Freyja said

" If he wants to talk potty words like that he needs to go into the toilet"

so I felt like he could bennifit from a wake up whistle from a couple of five year olds.