Rasberry Lessons
My Grandmother had a huge patch of red raspberries in her back yard, just behind the roses. They would bear fruit most of the summer, as long as they were picked, and I never got tired of the red raspberry jam. My Grandfather had false teeth, and I remember him complaining about the little seeds that got under his dentures. Still, that didn't keep him from eating the jam, so guess they were worth it. What I remember most, was the stories she would tell while we picked berries. There was not a grandchild that didn't get their session in the berry patch :), Her Father was a Baptist minister, American Baptist.She didn't much care for the noisy Southern Baptist, so she always designated which branch of the Baptists he belonged to. They got a reprieve in the summer. He was not only a minister, but was also a logger, and had a crew that camped out in the summer time and logged. They had a large family ,13 children, and she was the youngest. She rightfully claimed her place by sharing some of the things that she got away with because she was the youngest. There were 12 girls and one boy and they all had to take a part of the family chores. When they went to the mountains to log, the girls all worked in the kitchen and under the scrutiny of their Mother, fixed the meals for the hungry loggers. Three big meals a day.
While we were picking raspberries, she would reminisce about the huckleberry pies that they would make. Of course, we would always get the lesson how she was taught to pick the berries. You never just went into the patch and picked randomly, you started at one place and picked all the berries in that spot and then you would slowly step into the next space and pick those bushes clean as well. Supposedly, you would get more berries much quicker than the other way, however, I was never fully convinced about that part. Then, when we were advised of how to properly pick, she would share the funny stories, or stories of drama like the time the bears came into camp, or the time she was playing baseball and fell, and the crochet hook had entered her body and what they did to remove it. No Doctor's anywhere close.
Times have changed, and I sometimes wonder how it would have been to be raised in that era, where television sets were nonexistent and books were consumed. Now as I look back on those times, I am thankful that she took the time to share the lessons and part of her life with me. Idaho still has the huge huckleberries, but the pies are far and few between. Long gone are the logging camps, and our beautiful forests as well, as least as far as they knew them. Long gone are the frightful roads that were covered by wagons, and in their place, we find the four lane freeway. There is a lot to be said for progress, and just as much to be said about the pristine forests and the way of life that they knew and loved.
Tauna
While we were picking raspberries, she would reminisce about the huckleberry pies that they would make. Of course, we would always get the lesson how she was taught to pick the berries. You never just went into the patch and picked randomly, you started at one place and picked all the berries in that spot and then you would slowly step into the next space and pick those bushes clean as well. Supposedly, you would get more berries much quicker than the other way, however, I was never fully convinced about that part. Then, when we were advised of how to properly pick, she would share the funny stories, or stories of drama like the time the bears came into camp, or the time she was playing baseball and fell, and the crochet hook had entered her body and what they did to remove it. No Doctor's anywhere close.
Times have changed, and I sometimes wonder how it would have been to be raised in that era, where television sets were nonexistent and books were consumed. Now as I look back on those times, I am thankful that she took the time to share the lessons and part of her life with me. Idaho still has the huge huckleberries, but the pies are far and few between. Long gone are the logging camps, and our beautiful forests as well, as least as far as they knew them. Long gone are the frightful roads that were covered by wagons, and in their place, we find the four lane freeway. There is a lot to be said for progress, and just as much to be said about the pristine forests and the way of life that they knew and loved.
Tauna
