Blackberry Moment
By skinner_jennifer
- 1381 reads
Dear diary...
Recalling foraging along the
woodland trail; where clearly
on backdrop of diverse leaves,
blackberries thread on limp
hanging branches; displaying
their juicy ripeness, brief mouth
watering gratification fulfilled
in swell – that bursts of fruit.
Good old-fashioned memories
of home-made jam, stirring;
bubbling in the pan. Oh! How
we laughed at the spills, filling
containers with sweet sticky
sweetness.
We weren't busy like the bees,
just had that gratification and
desire...presenting jars as
festive gifts to loved ones,
relinquished with delight
from the brier.
Photos My Own.
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Comments
Nicely done, Jenny. A tale of
Nicely done, Jenny. A tale of Jam from another enjoyable reverie. Enjoyed, of course :)
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Bucketing here, Jenny. I
Bucketing here, Jenny. I spotted some rasberries this morning, Jenny. Can't really remember making jam. But I remember someone else's homemade. I also can't remember if blackberrie and rasberries are much the same, like brother and sister. Or is it sister and sister.?
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A wonderful tribute to our
A wonderful tribute to our native and very vigorous growing blackberry. I have so many memories of picking and also finding a little white grub inside after biting the top off. The grubs just disappear in the jamming process. Good old-fashioned memories as you say, and it's all free.
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I have memories of my mother
I have memories of my mother straining cooked blackberries through muslin tied to the feet of an upside down stool, to mke blackberry jelly-jam . I've never made either,but love freezing stewed blackberries for winter crumbles!
When you mentioned the blackberries thread on limp hanging branches I picrured in my mind some of the limp threads of poisonous berries, but the look of blackberries is so distinctive as a fruit isn't it? Rhiannon
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This is wonderful Jenny - and
This is wonderful Jenny - and I can see you've evoked happy memories for more than one person.
My raspberries have completely disappeared this year, but the blackberries are coming along very well. Maybe I'll make some jam with them in your honour. I seem to remember there was a lot of stirring involved in my one and only previous attempt
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I've never made jam--but as
I've never made jam--but as a child I once made rose water perfume--well, I stuck some rose petals in a jar of water and left them for a half term away at school--they were rancid. I also made milk ice lolly's (in the seventies, lots of power cuts) and did the same, went off to school for a half term before returning to my foster parents.I'd looked forward to those lolly's for weeks ... oh my goodness, the milk had gone sour at some point in the freezing process.
Thank you for the childhood memories that make me smile in retrospect, Jenny. Not quite the happy jam making memories, but close enough.
The poem is beautiful. I always loved the gentleness and power of your writing.
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We were always more of a pie
We were always more of a pie sort of family. The myriad of blackberries that we picked as kids from the railway embankment near my Nan's house could be more quickly consumed in that format, with a tin of Carnation Milk in true 1960s style.
I love your poem. It stirred memories if not jam. It's nice to see you using your own photographs too.
Turlough
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I prefer strawberries to
I prefer strawberries to blackberries when eating is concerned, Jenny, but I am a glutton for any fruit jam, especially homemade. When it comes to writing, we all like cherries and yours, here, are well deserved.
Luigi xx
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