For Labor Day, we decided to pick berries. Our game friends came with us, despite the fact that it was raining, and as Allen said, "They're lining up two by two over at our house. How do you think it will be in Mapleton?" It was muddy in Mapleton, and I have the minivan to show for it. But we also had lots of rain gear left over from the Berlin trip, so we suited up to try our luck.
It was fabulous! These geniuses planted
thornless blackberries and we had a party with all 12 of us sitting in the rows and kuplink, kuplank, kuplunking away like Sal and her blueberries. It felt too easy to get at them since our usual blackberries are the wild prickly kind. Rob would come home after a day of wrangling the intellectuals and stomp through the bushes, coming back triumphant with a couple of cups of berries and a lot of war wounds from the thorns.
I thought that we might get a few pounds before the kids got tired. But having the friends nearby and no thorns to contend with, we stayed for over an hour and we got
nineteen pounds! Yes, that's nineteen pounds of berries that we had to process, eat or freeze in the next 36 hours. That made for two batches of jam, several cups frozen, a cobbler for a friend, and a pie that I made to please my husband. It cost me a lot of money in the swear word jar, and I was only just able to warn Rob to get the kids out of the kitchen before I let forth with all of them. I'm afraid that he could still hear me screaming "I hate making pie! If you wanted a pie-making wife, why didn't you marry Marie Callendar!" and threatening to cut more vile sentiments into the vents. Unfortunately, the pie was pretty good.
And as is his custom, Joss protested wildly at being put into the stroller which we'd so thoughtfully brought for him and Leah. And he's protesting again now so I'll sign off.
For Labor Day, we decided to pick berries. Our game friends came with us, despite the fact that it was raining, and as Allen said, "They're lining up two by two over at our house. How do you think it will be in Mapleton?" It was muddy in Mapleton, and I have the minivan to show for it. But we also had lots of rain gear left over from the Berlin trip, so we suited up to try our luck.
It was fabulous! These geniuses planted thornless blackberries and we had a party with all 12 of us sitting in the rows and kuplink, kuplank, kuplunking away like Sal and her blueberries. It felt too easy to get at them since our usual blackberries are the wild prickly kind. Rob would come home after a day of wrangling the intellectuals and stomp through the bushes, coming back triumphant with a couple of cups of berries and a lot of war wounds from the thorns.
I thought that we might get a few pounds before the kids got tired. But having the friends nearby and no thorns to contend with, we stayed for over an hour and we got nineteen pounds! Yes, that's nineteen pounds of berries that we had to process, eat or freeze in the next 36 hours. That made for two batches of jam, several cups frozen, a cobbler for a friend, and a pie that I made to please my husband. It cost me a lot of money in the swear word jar, and I was only just able to warn Rob to get the kids out of the kitchen before I let forth with all of them. I'm afraid that he could still hear me screaming "I hate making pie! If you wanted a pie-making wife, why didn't you marry Marie Callendar!" and threatening to cut more vile sentiments into the vents. Unfortunately, the pie was pretty good.
And as is his custom, Joss protested wildly at being put into the stroller which we'd so thoughtfully brought for him and Leah. And he's protesting again now so I'll sign off.
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anne