Blackberry Pickin’ Season
One thing we’re usually not very short on around here is blackberries. They’re actually considered a noxious weed here and people burn them (during burning season, of course).
My new found friend and favorite CHP’s Wife (CHP = California Highway Patrol aka State Troopers) went for our morning walk this morning and got to talking about how we had to pick berries. There comes a time in the summer when it turns from a “want” to a “have to.” Much longer and our berries will be drying up and turning into little wrinkled pods that are no good to eat. So we headed down to the river.
It was a hot day today and the river was relaxing. We picked in a spot that she’d never been to and since I’m the “native” here, she learned a great new picking spot and fishing spot. I’m sure we were both wishing we were on that raft.
There was a pretty good amount of berries though I have a feeling there’ve been people there before us who had the same intentions. It was a bit more sparse though we definitely got our loot.
This is my collander as Glenna’s ended up being empty pretty quickly. She picked and picked but her collander never retained any berries, and not because of her either.
Rather, she had some help from a fine little fellow named Davey Crockett. He flashed that smile and she poured more out for him to eat.
“Oh no! Davey’s eaten all the berries!”
Annie had her fill too. She would ride in my backpack and peer over my shoulder saying, “Nana! Nana!” That stands for “banana” but she calls everything eatable a “Nana.”
Davey had to show us, with all of his wilderness expertise, how to cross rapids. He marched back and forth looking for slimey clumps of moss and water logged sticks.
One of his finest wilderness tips was how to effectively cool off. You grab an empty collander and make a shower out of it. I’m not so sure he got that shower up and on his head quick enough though, but he’s the expert (and that at four years old!)
On the way back to the car we followed a calm little arm of the river that shot off the main part and peacefully wound its way through the blackberries and willows.
The old man got to enjoy a little swim and cooled off (he’ll be 12 tomorrow!)
And then back across our little foot bridge and to the cars. Last tip of the day from Davey, “Sun’s out, guns out,” thus, no shirt.