Skip to main content


Every August we spend time getting pricked and poked, fighting off bees and spiders in order to take advantage of the juicy blackberries that abound here in the Pacific Northwest. Today my husband and I (alone!) went picking at Discovery Park up on Magnolia in Seattle. We used to pick berries there when our first two kids were little and even before that when we were dating.

If memory serves, the berries were big and plentiful back then. Today, they seemed a bit sparse and much smaller.


The weather, thank heavens, is much cooler than it usually is in August so the picking wasn't as hot and sweaty work as it was last year when we picked them along the Orting River. THOSE were some enormous berries, probably due to their close proximity to the water.

Here's a gratuitious shot of hubby picking this morning. Isn't he cute?


Later tonight I'll bake those berries into a pie and serve it warm and gooey with some vanilla ice cream on the side. If he's lucky there might still be some left when he gets home.


  1. Yum! I need to take my kids to get some. I haven't gone since we have lived here, but I am sure there are some good places by the Green River.

  2. You really should! I bet there are some ginormous blackberries there along the river!

    I just made the pie and am waiting for the oven to heat up so I can bake it. Yuuuuuuuum!

  3. Learned something new today: so those are called black berries in English :) thanks for the picture.

    I think black berries do better when there's more sun. So the lack of heat probably has something to do with the small harvest this year.

    Black berries are great in combination with other berries I think.

  4. Man, I remember those berries. I remember walking along the road in Vancouver and just picking them off the bushes...they were HUGE. sigh. I'd love a fresh blackberry pie...

  5. Katrinka, welcome and thanks for visiting my blog. Yes, they're called Blackberries and they are SOOOOO good. If they're not ripe enough they are quite tart. We plan on picking more this month for pies and such. I always like to freeze some to have during the winter as well.

    G., you should come up and I'll bake you a pie! You don't have any blackberries where you are?


Post a Comment

Go ahead....tell me the truth :)

Popular posts from this blog

A Poem to an Abusive Man

I've been doing a bit of research on abuse, domestic violence and how it usually ends. It's not pretty and it's painful and I hurt every time I read another woman's tale of horror.

Did you know that emotional abuse is as detrimental as physical abuse? And that most emotional abusers continue on to become physical abusers? I didn't. I do now. I found a site where formerly abused women, on the path to recovery from their abusers, have written poems. This one below is one that haunted me.

Thank You

You wooed me with poetry
I bit on the hook
Had I only first read
The name of the book

I would have avoided
The very first page
For pages kept turning
Revealing the rage

The ups were a great high
The ride was a bash
But I rode with my eyes closed
To avoid seeing the crash
I knew it would come soon
But I never knew when
The rage and the leaving
And the path to the end

You had to control things
Determined you would
Emotionally destroying me
Every way that you could

Elderly Abuse

I heard a loud thud the other morning around 3:30 a.m. I checked my monitor but he'd once again turned it to the wall so I was unable to see if he was still in bed. I went downstairs right behind my sweet husband and dad was on the living room floor moaning and holding his head. He'd fallen. Hard.

The first picture is the day of the fall. The second is the day after. The black eye keeps blossoming. He has a gash on his head, hidden by his silver hair and he skinned his shoulder/arm. He's a mess.

Was he using his walker? Nope. 85 year old toddlers cannot be told what to do. Or rather, they can be told what to do, they simply won't comply. Ever. In fact they get down right angry and throw fits. It's not pretty.

His physical therapist came to the house the next day and strongly told him to use his walker EACH TIME HE STOOD UP. Has he? Nope. Nyet. He was very angry with me yesterday because I kept asking him to use his walker. Also, I asked him i…

I'll Love You Forever, I'll Like You For Always...

I rely on the kindness of strangers...

Or not so much strangers as readers of my miserable blog.

I received a beautiful card in the mail from my long-tine reader (perhaps my ONLY reader) that lifted my heart. Thank you, G. Parkes. It was kind of you to think of me. Seriously---you are so sweet. Thank you.

Perhaps we can meet in person one day. I'll be in Utah after Conference. We'll see how it goes.

I've been caring for my autistic grandson since July. It seems longer sometimes---and that's not a complaint. I adore this little man. He holds my heart. He fills my arms and my heart in the way that my own small babies used to do. When mine reached the age where they didn't want to be in my arms any longer, I felt their absence. Their absence from my arms was heavier than actually having them in my arms. It was an ache that is difficult to describe, a phantom pain where something once was but now is no longer.

Before my husband and I went to the cabin th…