Congratulations, readers...
You've made it to that most happy time in the South:
Blackberry Season.
Oh, who am I kidding?
It's hot, it's humid and those stupid thorns hurt!
Really, they are way too much trouble to pick.
And yet...
Blackberry season leads me to think of that most magical place:
Blackberry Farm.
The year I turned 30 Billy took me to Blackberry Farm in Walland, Tennessee.
It is crazy expensive to go there so we only stayed one night.
But one night at Blackberry Farm feels like seven nights in the real world.
It's all very luxurious which is nice but even better than the food and the accommodations are the golf carts!
Is there anything better than a golf cart?
I love them.
They had these great little paths you could drive on that led to streams and pretty buildings:
But again...
Who am I kidding?
It's not the accommodations, or the food, or even the golf carts.
The real reason people go to Blackberry Farm is this:
It's a freezer drawer full of Dove Ice Cream Bars.
Kid, I don't care how good those blackberries are they can't compare to ice cream..
"Just let me enjoy my blackberries."
I never liked eating them off the bush, but they are really good with lots of sugar and ice cream.
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