Today was the best of St. Louis summer (a cool morning thundershower) and the worst of St. Louis summer (the subsequent 100 percent humidity afternoon). It probably wouldn’t have felt so bad except that I was helping a friend move furniture. And a washer. And a dryer. From her basement to the second floor.

I avoided most of the heaviest lifting, thanks to the one man among three women who was determined not to be outdone by any two of us combined, but I still worked up quite a sweat. I cannot imagine having done that or any job outdoors today.

And yet after I read this post for the blog I help edit, St. Louis Kids Magazine’s SmartParenting, I was oh-so-tempted to give blueberry and blackberry picking a try.The farm she writes about, Huckleberry Hollow, is only about an hour southwest of St. Louis off I-44.  Some friends who picked blueberries a couple of weeks ago raved about the experience too, telling us it was magical to just hold out your hand and have blueberries practically fall into it.

I think what I have to do is imagine how good those frozen berries will taste come December …