They say life is not a bowl of roses, nor is it a bed of cherries. But right about now in upstate New York it is coming on to berry pickin' time. There has been some strawberry pickin' already and the local market has the fist sized strawberries that I find a bit off putting. When I was lad, corn did not grow to fifteen feet tall and strawberries were not the size of baseballs. They are now somehow.
What I like is the wild blackberry and both the wild and tame rasberry. Boo yeah !! Pickin' can be a hot and buggy deal. Long pants and sleeves and a bandana soaked in 100% Deet on the head.(The Deet can go into your head and make you woozy, that's how you know it's working.)
Pick great big bags of the berries. Out along the old railroad tracks is loaded. Make the pies. Eat big bowls with milk . Oh man, have a blackberry orgy! When you can pick six berries, with one hand, in one pick, yeah babay, gimme the berries, all free, handfulls, it's like in the kids book, Jam Jamborree, berry berrrie berrries berries yeah yeah yeah I love berries gimme gimme gimme ......arrrgggghhhh!!!
Yeah, I like berries.
I spotted some black raspberry bushes from the window of the Amtrak train & thought of you. Let me know if you want to go berry picking in Saratoga.
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