Signs of Summer
One of the best signs of summer (besides bare feet) is berry stained hands. I have many fond memories of picking berries when we were at the family cabin so my grandma could make us a black raspberry pie. Of course we ate as many as we picked and rarely had enough pie, perhaps it was my grandma’s way of getting us out of the cabin?
We’ve been picking a berries for a week or so. We have wild black raspberries growing around the edges of the property. We’re trying to cultivate a few more of them because we don’t have a ton yet, but we get enough for salads and for eating fresh.
My mom has loads of wild black raspberries at her house and we often head over there when she’s gotten all she needs. Yesterday we went over for a work day. Brian cut up a tree, then spent the afternoon picking blueberries and black raspberries and my mom and I worked in the garden.
I still have some black raspberries in the freezer from last year, but you can never have too many tucked away for winter. There really is nothing better on a cold winter evening than a steamy black raspberry pandowdy.
Are you picking any raspberries or other berries?
