I love raspberries. Fresh picked. Tart. Topping vanilla ice cream. Turned into jam. They are my favorite fruit.
I took for granted the raspberries we grew on my father's farm. They were always there. Full of fruit and begging to be picked. If anything I resented the hassle of the scratchy branches and the hot sun. As a child, I got to eat them even if I didn't help pick them. Now, I look longingly at the tiny expensive baskets of them at the grocery store and never allow myself to give in to the temptation. Today I was given free reign in a friend's raspberry patch.
Mmmmm.... Raspberry goodness. O Happy Day.
I love raspberries. Fresh picked. Tart. Topping vanilla ice cream. Turned into jam. They are my favorite fruit.
I took for granted the raspberries we grew on my father's farm. They were always there. Full of fruit and begging to be picked. If anything I resented the hassle of the scratchy branches and the hot sun. As a child, I got to eat them even if I didn't help pick them. Now, I look longingly at the tiny expensive baskets of them at the grocery store and never allow myself to give in to the temptation. Today I was given free reign in a friend's raspberry patch.
Mmmmm.... Raspberry goodness. O Happy Day.
1 comment:
I am jealous. This looks quite fun and delicious.
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