"Did you plant some berries beside the shed?" my husband asked me a couple weeks ago.
"No, I don't know anything about them. What berries?"
It turns out that Ellis saw red - raspberry looking fruit on prickly vines every time he mowed past
the shed at the edge of the lawn. There is a big walnut tree shading the shed. The foundation of the old chicken coop is hidden under brambles and stinging nettle. Some rotten wooden pallets are hiding there too. They make treacherous footing when you step on them and reach for a big black berry that hangs just out of reach.
While I was on a mini vacation to WI Krysta braved the mosquitos and picked these berries. (They turn black when they are ripe.) Then she looked up a recipe online for blackberry cobbler and turned them into a scrumptious dessert. It was soo delicious that I followed her to the patch and helped pick more berries so we could make more cobbler.
The garments required are leggings and knee socks, old tennies, an old dress that doesn't matter because it will get ripped from brambles, and a long sleeved shirt. I lit some mosquito coils and hung them on branches near by. That will keep the pesky creatures at bay.
I dangled an ice cream bucket over my arm and prepared for battle. The shade from the walnut tree was wonderful. I thought garden things won't grow under walnut trees. The combination of seeds planted by birds in well aged chicken manure must be the trick because these berries are flourishing. We still don't know if they are blackberries or black raspberries. Is there a difference?
I contemplated all these thoughts and questions as I picked. And I thought about my dad. Every summer Dad went to the back side of his property and picked berries just like these. Every summer Mom made a pie for Dad's birthday with them.
This year my daughter and I picked berries from a corner of our property and made a cobbler. On July 9th, Dad's birthday, we had a hot dog roast at Mom's place. We sat in the shade in the sweltering heat and enjoyed lemonade, baked beans, lettuce salad, braats roasted on a fork. Mom had a fresh raspberry pie on hand. Krysta made the blackberry cobbler.
Ellis dished up a bowl of amazing purple yumminess and took a spoonful. "It tastes just like summer in a bowl," was his happy comment.
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