This is an annual event for me and any other able-bodied, willing assistant. Two can pick 16 cups, enough for two pies, so much faster than one. When my sons were small the three of us used to go. It reminded me of that children's book, Blueberries for Sal, as their buckets didn't fill as fast as mine; because as many went in their mouth as in the bucket! Well my young assistants have long since move out on their own, so DH and I went.
He was such a sport. No one can accuse him of being a character in the story of the Little Red Hen. He knows if he wants to eat blackberry pie, it would be great if he helped pick. He was often out of sight in the berry patch, but I could hear him. "Ouch!" "Yikes!" "Let go you!" *giggling*
At one point I was stretching out to pick that perfect berry just out of reach, you know the one, and started to lose my balance. I was seen circling my arms like a cartoon character trying hard not to fall face first into the briars!
From that to this: