Friday, August 07, 2009
Picture taken July 19th...if only we could flit off to Oregon during blackberry season so the kids could pick their own blackberries any time, any where. Perhaps the prolific vines aren't ubiquitous these days, as they were when I was growing up. Back then, I frequently made whole meals from the literal fruits of my battles with blackberry bushes. Those found around our house seemed to rival Brer Rabbit's briar patch, but I was never practical enough (I was a kid, there's no reason I should have been) to don long sleeves/long trousers before tackling a bush. Instead, I liked to try and find ways to push and pull the vines, draping them away and hooking them with their own thorns so I could get deeper into the brambles without being gouged. After all, the very best looking berries were always just back there, just beyond my reach. And the scratches suffered in the heat of the fight for the biggest, juiciest berries were nothing less than battle scars. Someday, may the kids update their claws from these, carelessly tumbled out of a plastic box, to sparkly purple-black berries they've wrestled out from amongst thorns. Then they'll be true Berry Monsters!