Today, Rochelle and I ventured over to Kerrisdale to see if there were any blackberries left along the tracks. Well, there were some, not many but some.
We learned that the blackberry picking is not the for the faint of heart or for the "afraid of thorns." And I learned that picking berries in shorts and a t-shirt is a bad idea. All the same, the scratches and gouges I braved will probably make the berries that much sweeter.
For her part, Rochelle exhibited her typical bravery and determination, picking long after I'd called it quits and sat on the tracks. She did get stuck in the bushes at one point, though. And I'm very proud to say that not only was I there to rescue her, but I had the presence of mind to film my heroism.
The berries are in my freezer now, waiting for some culinary inspiration. So far, I haven't decided what I'll do with them: pie, cobbler, muffins, salad? Not sure. Anyone have any suggestions? Yeah, you. My readership of one. What do you think?
