Friday, July 15, 2011
As a child, I loved summer raspberry picking in my grandparents' backyard. I would eat half of the bucket and my Granny would exclaim, "you need to leave some for us to make jam!" If I could live off raspberries for the rest of my life, I'd be happy as a lark.
Between my two kids, one reminded me of myself as he inhaled as many as he could smack his lips on. And even though I tried, the other didn't appreciate the raspberries one bit. She spat them on her collar in defiance. Whose child is this? Not mine.
I love having a variety of "pick your own" farms in my neck of the woods. Especially raspberries. We came home with almost two pounds, and it's not enough.
We're coming back for more, Poverty Lane Orchards.