Pick your own

Jam season is here. Having already had one disaster, I decided to make blackcurrant jelly. Despite the fact that half of all blackcurrants grown around the world are varieties bred in Scotland, they are as rare as hens' teeth in the shops, so I dragged the family off to the nearest pick-your-own farm.

"It will bring back lovely childhood memories of summer fruit picking" I said, staring fondly into the past wearing those rose tinted glasses. It did, but not in a good way. All around us there were little kids crying because -
a) they felt sick on account of eating too many strawberries or rasperries (kids only eat blackcurrants in the form of Ribena),
b) they had been stung by nettles
c) they wanted to go and see the baby pigs, or
c) they were bored and/or knackered.

My helpers only ticked three of these boxes.

I'm hoping the next stage works - though I believe some people have terrible trouble with their blackberries.