Blackberries

Well, in my part of the country near the Ohio River it's a million degrees with a million per cent humidity. It's mid July and the sun is at full burn strength.

That means it's time to put on heavy, long pants and a good thick, long sleeved shirt and go to the edge of a hayfield and pick Blackberries. The plants are stingy about giving up their fruit and protect themselves with sharp, spiky thorns that start at the ground and run even to the backs of the leaves.


In an hour and a half I was soaked with sweat, my right hand was purple from berry juice, my bucket held only a half gallon of berries, and I killed a tick on me before I got in the shower.

Blackberries are THAT good.

Missy Ann will make some wonderful desert out of them. Perhaps a cobbler, maybe a pie, or even just sprinkled over ice cream. Whatever she does with them-it will be delicious!