After work this evening I changed clothes, grabbed #Dudley’s leash and drove back into Bryan for a leisurely stroll around our favorite park. Last night at #Weight Watchers my weight was not where I wanted it AGAIN! My activity has been down significantly and my will power has not been strong. I will not be discouraged so I am committing myself to more exercise and better will power this week. There will be a positive outcome on the scale next week.
Dinner consisted of standing around the raspberry patch and munching those wonderful morsels as fast as I could get them off the vine. Our patch is made up of ever-bearing berries that produce fruit most of the summer. That first taste of sweet berries is incredible, but the berries late in the summer are larger, sweeter, and have more juice. In other words, irresistible! The unseasonably cool weather makes for great berry picking and as long as you don’t get swarmed by mosquitoes as the sun goes down, its pretty comfortable except the thorns.
Picking berries is a family tradition, and in our family most of the berries that made it into the house were the ones Mom picked. The rest of us ate more than we put in the basket. When Mom would rinse off the ones that made it inside she would point out all the little black bugs that came out of there and remind us that we were eating all those. Never slowed us down – protein pops! Considering the marvelous foods Mom made with those berries, we should have been more motivated to get them inside to her. Mom would use 3-4 cups of raspberries, 1/4 c of sugar, 2 T flour – toss that in a crust and put a crust on top and make the most incredible raspberry pie. No fillers or jellies – just natural raspberries creating their own jelly. Raspberry jelly was the other thing she would make. During the winter when we would open a jar of that jelly, it was a reminder of those fresh berries. After breaking the paraffin seal, I would lick the jelly and knaw at the wax to get every bit of that raspberry goodness.
Dad was the worst about raspberries. He hated them “wasted” on pies and jams. Mowing around the berry patch was a labor intensive process that required stops at every vine to lessen the weight strain. Dad could spend an hour mowing around our small berry patch. After he finished mowing the only picking left was on the inside of the patch – Dad didn’t do thorns, and why should he – that’s what he had girls for!
These berry good memories came as I enjoyed the bounty from vines transplanted from that childhood patch and I realized that Ever Bearing was not only marvelous fruit, but wonderful family memories.
- [from the archives] gathered, baked, eaten: raspberries (earthchicknits.com)
- Tuesday Review Day: Berry Picking in Washtenaw County (flyingktravel.wordpress.com)
- Blackberry and Raspberry Jelly (cookingthemhealthy.co.uk)
- Holding on to Summer – Raspberry Sauce (theinvoluntaryhousewife.com)