Tuesday, August 2, 2016

Blackberries and Memories

It was a long, dry July, and Central New York has been in a moderate drought.  This last week we've had a few hours here and there of rain, but we're still well below our average rainfall.  Still, the moisture is making a difference - a little fresh green in the lawns, and some brighter greens in the fields and on the trees.

My containers of tomatoes are happy, although I still have to water them by hand every day it's hot.  None of them are ripening yet - I'm hoping that changes soon.

But, oh my, the BLACKBERRIES!  Behind our house, edging the woods, is a massive wild blackberry patch.  So far we've picked and frozen 8 quarts of berries.  I'll be making blackberry jam, and sharing berries with my sister, so she can make a pie

Blackberries = memories.  When I was little, my mother and sisters and I would pick blackberries near our house.  We spent many buggy afternoons pushing aside brambles looking for juicy berry gold.  We would leave the house slathered in bug spray and toting Tupperware bowls, and we'd return sweaty and scratched tired and victorious, with all the berries we could find.  Mom made jam, cobbler, crisp, and pie, and nothing ever tasted so good.  Now I'm blessed to share blackberry picking with my daughter, and I can show her how to make jam, and cobbler, and crisp, and pie....

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