The funny thing is that on Saturday, when we picked berries, the way I gave time to my boys was not by berry picking with them. The berrying, as it turns out, was for me. I gave time to them by getting up out of the berry patch and going home when none of them really wanted to be there any more, even though I had hardly just begun. They had picked and sampled as many as they needed, and for them, I laid down the vision of enormous mounds of berries boiling down into rows of jelly jars. Instead we had two perfect pounds of berries, and pound cake that we all sampled together in the store, and whipped cream with two beaters for two big brothers to lick furtively (don't let the baby see!). Sometimes less is more.