DeNiece and I went blackberry picking last week. We had been trying for several weeks to go out but the weather had been wet. We decided it was probably our last chance before the blackberries disappeared.

We have been excursioning into the countryside around the house for the past four years now searching for the tasty berries. I guess it has become a tradition for us.

DeNiece who is now eight years old likes to eat more than she picks. I don't have a problem with that unless she eats the ones I have picked. She tends to be a grazing sort of a picker. She spots a good one, picks it and then moves on. She usually does not notice the other ones on the same bush that could be picked. I don't have a problem with that. I follow behind her and gather the ones left. She also tends to have a short attention span and gives up picking after 10 minutes or so. I don't have a problem with that either. It is nice to have her company.

We have noticed a few interesting things about blackberry bushes in our time of searching out their fruits. For example often the best blackberries are found in the grass. That means if you don't look where you are going you can stand on the berries. The ones that are easy to spot have usually been attacked by flies who seem to suck the juice out but if you look below the bush there is often a branch laden with fruit that is snaking its way through the grass.

We have about five  places where blackberries grow well but each year one of the places has a turn at providing superior, quality fruit. If you visit the same place that had great fruit last year, it won't have such a good crop this year.

When we arrive back home scratched and with purple juice stains around our mouth if we are an eight year old, we make some of the blackberries into jam and put the rest into the freezer.

Later on in the year when we fancy a taste of autumn we can make a blackberry pie, more jam or make flavouring to swirl through homemade ice cream which all sounds Martha- ery Stewartish really.