Any sadness that I felt for the garden we left behind in Taos was quickly dismissed upon finding a sweet, you-pick farm on the Front Range.

The raspberries are just beginning to ripen. We picked about 3 lbs. Three pounds is lot of raspberries.

Had we lacked self restraint we could have easily gobbled them all up in the car ride home. But we resisted and made some jam. We also baked up a beautiful clafoutis. I had never heard of a clafoutis until learning of them here, but they will most definitely become a regular part of our cuisine. De-lish.

We also visited a local dairy, where we’ll be getting our milk and freshly made cheese. Yum. We were too busy holding chickens, petting calves and laughing at the goats and sheep to get any pictures. The farm made a big impression on the boys, who are longing for their chickens. Fortunately the abundance of the wild, bugling elk in these parts compensates for the loss of their domesticated egg-laying friends.

When we do get some chickens again, I’ll be looking for one of these handsome white roosters. I find this fellow’s simplicity beautiful.


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