(Last week’s items)
The road or country lane I grew up on was a roadside garden of sorts. Before the county came along and cleared the road banks, the trees almost touched from side to side, pretty but it wouldn’t dry out very fast after a rain and it was almost impassable at times.
There were gooseberries, dew berries, raspberries, chokecherry trees, mulberry and plum, wild onions, and grapes. Also nearby was a small meadow where an older lady had shown my mother how to pick an assortment of greens. I am too chicken to try it myself now. I only know the lowly dandelion to be safe.
There was a huge gooseberry bush at one corner of our hay field, and also blackberry fields nearby. I made some spending money one summer picking gooseberries for some old folks in town. They wanted five gallons; it took a while, and the charge was 50 cents a gallon. To this day, I hate to see these wild treasures go to waste.
One has to be a little cautious along the roads now a days because of all the sprays we have. Know your area before you strike out on your search. I have friends in town and country that I share my booty with. As Betty Crocker said, "Nothing says loving like something from the oven," and I will add the stove and berry patch. I gave one friend a black raspberry pie for her birthday. She never shared with anyone and in a couple of days, it was gone. A pie also beats a get well card; just ask another friend that.
So, if you see me with scratches and scrapes at this time of year, you can bet I have been battling the thorns and bushes, weeds, and vines. Fresh always beats frozen, canned, or dried.
My grandson marveled recently at a pie I served him that the berries had been on the tree just the day before. In this fast-paced world, something fresh and not prepared is a treat.
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