Blackberry, blackberry…

Just a small diversion from the Happiest Stories on Earth for a moment to let you know that lately we have been pigging out on juicy, fresh-picked blackberries…and no I did not grow them (although the patch has started to provide the most AMAZINGLY sweet tomatoes). These blackberries grow wild in our car park and just down the hill on the roadside – yes, that’s right – in suburbia.

I have never eaten fresh-picked blackberries before – only restaurant delivered-on-a-plate ones – these are so-o-o-o delicious. J managed to fill an ice-cream container on Saturday with his not-so-slim pickings and has put half in the freezer for prosperity (of our desserts anyway).

Why did no-one tell me about this?? This is definitely the first important lessons of my 40s…

2 thoughts on “Blackberry, blackberry…

  1. Hmmmm…yes I can see how that would be a complete turn-off but what a shame to have your enjoyment blunted so terribly. We wash everything we pick before we eat it…mainly because the neighbourhood wildlife (cats, foxes, squirrels etc) are likely to have gotten there first…if you know what I mean…


  2. I like your blacberry picking story. It reminded me of when I was going to School which was in the country. There used to be loads.I used to eat them from the thorny bramble bush.I could not get enough…until ond day I was just about to put one in my mouth..when my friend shouted out no!! stop!!To my horror there was a worm crawling on top. That was the end of me eating blackberries straight from the brambles.


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