Berried Treasure

   I love raspberries, for me they tie in memories of my other grandmother, Grammie Ruth.   Growing up we had a white picket fence, between our yard and the neighbors.  I remember my Dad making it and trying to recruit me to help paint it, in Tom Sawyer fashion.   My Dad was full of mischief.

  The following summer, my Mom noticed the brambles growing on the far right end of the fence.  Soon, raspberries and thumb sized blackberries were ripe for the picking.  I remember the day there was enough to make jam.  My grandmother was coming over and Mom decided to make her favorite, Raspberry Jam.  The day was warm and the perfume of ripen fruit was heady.  I was excited to watch the process unfold.  I helped get the jars ready.  Mom prepared the fruit and did the cooking. She poured the jam in and I sealed the tops.  Now, she wanted to do a water bath.  I was little and confused about the idea of giving jam a bath. She explained why and we continued. 

   My grandmother's eyes danced when she arrived. She shared her memories growing up and picking berries.  She had four brothers and one sister, there were so many berries they would have fights with them.  Her youngest brother, Chandler would eat his share and bring home an almost empty pail.  She would make a pie with what was left of their collected treasure. 

   She smiled with a twinkle in her eye and said,  "Be sure to tell you Mom to save a jar for a winter's day.  On a cold, stormy day, when  the wind gusts so hard it rattles our windows help your Mom make a pan of biscuits. Then spread on a heaping teaspoon of summer's kiss. There is nothing like tasting summer on the worst day of winter."   Then she grabbed a few berries and popped them in her mouth and winked, "but this is the best way to eat them, ripe off the vine."   

   Yesterday, hubby wanted to go to Virginia and shop. Yes, the Bass Pro trip.  I didn't want to go, but the promise of Starbucks lured me to go along.  I decided on the way I would have fun taking Instagram photos of their displays.  Time flew and yes, I did get my Iced coffee ;D.

We stopped for lunch at a place called "TASTE".   Hubby kept saying he wanted to stop and get a sandwich, an Italian sub type.  I reminded him, we haven't had one since we moved to the south.  We went in to this crowded store, there were lots of choices, but no Italians.  I did find a taste of Maine. They had Blueberry soda, called Maine Root made in Portland, Maine.   I had to get some...I bought a few bottles to share with the kids.  I have many blueberry memories.  Yes, Grammie Ruth was involved.  I will share my favorite memory and my Blueberry cake recipe, later on. What is your favorite berry memory?