Buckets of blackberries in my future?

The only time "blackberry pickin" has ever been a part of my life was during summertime visits to my grandparents' home in West Virginia. Sally and any of the neighborhood kids who felt like joining her, plus her grandchildren visiting from **somewhere in the Carolinas would go for a 3 mile walk "around the river road" carrying empty bags and milk cartons with the tops cut out to collect the fat, warm, yummy berries that exploded in our mouths as we picked until we grew bored of the activity long before "Mamaw" did. (Most of these memories occurred long before I got all defiant and rebillious and started calling my maternal grandmother by her first name.)

My point. Oh yea. So I can't remember a time when I didn't love blackberries, but I always, always associate them with being in WV. But not with The Property Proper, since we always had to go for a long walk to pick them. Although there were a few small bushes here and there, back near the woods behind the houses.

So today I rolled up into the driveway of the house where I'm, once more, going to be spending the next week or two, and got myself all settled. An hour or two after arriving, I was standing at the kitchen sink slicing My Very First Garden Fresh Tomato Of The Season which I picked up at the Piedmont Triad Farmers Market on my way out of town today, and I looked up and had my first double-take of the season. Check out these photos: Am I wrong? Are these what I think they are? Do You Know How Many Patches Of These Blossoms There Are Right Behind The House Where I Will Fall Asleep Tonight? No, really, take a guess. At least 4. Four hugemongous, honkin' patches, each of which would take hours to harvest if they are, indeed, what I'm thinkin' they are, once they bloom. (Hours for me, not for you. Hush. I'm a slow picker.)

Heh. My mom and WV neighbor will prolly read this, roll their eyes and shake their heads and say, "Silly City Girl thinks she's found blackberry bushes when really she's just got a mess a'weeds."

So I'll find out soon enough. But for the moment? I'm feelin' kinda' thrilled with my find.

Now I'd better turn down the music and go find something else to eat since that litte tomato - divine as it may have been, and it was, oh YES it was - was not quite enough food to call a complete dinner. I'm channeling Sally at the moment by playing my music really loudly. Which is nothing new. Only the first thing I did when I'd unlocked the house then turned on the electricity and water, was open all the windows that had screens on them to freshen up this house grown all stale during the last month, and it occurs to me I should find out how well sound carries around here. I seem to recall it carried Q U I T E well when Sally would put her stereo speakers in the windows and crank up Jimmy Swaggert albums so her neighbors could enjoy her musical preferences. But I'm listening to Darrell Scott, the volume feels more reasonable...and my speakers aren't in the windows. So hopefully I'm not annoying anybody.

Aah, sweet nostalgia!

**Neighbors often struggled to remember which of the Carolinas we actually called home, which we didn't make easier when later on, sis and I both moved from SC to NC, but Mom and Dad stayed put.

Comments

[Mom]

I believe that you have found a blackberry patch. Happy picken!

You should have been with my brother and me when we were picking strawberries--we would no sooner get settled in a patch when mother would call us to another one.

Hey! You might want to make some blackberry jelly. Get a pack of sure jell, some sugar and borrow a large pot from a neighbor. You might find some jars.

There is a wonderful blueberry bush in the side yard. They are delicious.

Have fun!!!!!

Love,
Mom

[Melody]

Yea, we'll have to see about the jelly business.

But you missed one tiny point. I haven't found a blackberry patch. I have found F O U R!!! Now I'll bet I get more visitors up here! :)

How long between blossoms that look like this and actual blackberries? I'm afraid I'll miss them when I leave...

[Joy]

When I told Rami yesterday that you had gone out of town, we had the following conversation:

"Where???"
"To West Virginia."
"Where's 'est 'ginya?"
"In the mountains."
"How did she get to the mountains?? It's so high!!!"

[Nathan]

There was a blackberry bush in our next door to the house I grew up in. The owners would always let my sister and me come over and pick as many as we wanted. We would always walk away with bloodied fingers, but such a great reward!

[Melody]

Joy, thanks for this. I miss that little voice. And those little thought processes! Not so little, actually...

Nathan I'd forgotten about the bloodied fingers. I wonder if such skill improves with age? Hopefully I'll be here at the right time to find out!