I'm a nut for raspberries. I never thought there would be anything in the world better than fresh picked berries from my great grandmother's garden. I remember climbing through the thick prickly bushes to find just the perfect berry. I must have been around six years old, but I remember the days clearly. I would even shimmy on my tummy under the thorny branches to reach the berries in the small patch of bushes near my grandma's garage.
Today I still love raspberries in the middle of summer. I have stood my ground my entire life, raspberries were my favorite fruit.
Well, like I said, I never new I'd find something better than those perfect berries of summer, but I think I've found a close second, canned raspberries, homemade of coarse. E's mom was nice enough to share a jar of her famous raspberries last fall at dinner, and I fell in love. Now, each time I see her I beg her for another jar of my own. She has been more than nice to indulge me, and last night I savored the end of another jar of berries.
They are sweet and tart, and tender, and oh so good! Luckily E isn't as crazy as I am about the berries, so most of the time they are mine.
So why am I writing an entire blog entry about raspberries? Who the hell knows, work has been busy and stressful, and I thought it would be fun. Plus, I don't ever want to forget the memories of those prickly bushes all those years ago.
Stefan– my beautiful boy at 24
6 hours ago