Sunday, August 24, 2014

Blackberry Memories




We are super close to being ready for the families that have chose our farm for the beginning of their new chapter(s), so I took a break from wedding prep.
After I met with a bride, made some delish breakfast, grocery shopped and cleaned up our tiny little house I headed down our driveway and across the road to pick some blackberries.


The berries out there are prime for picking.
Big, plump and juice.
Those are our Fancy Farm Girls favorite.
She said she likes when the "pop" in her mouth.

My dad taught me a trick because everyone knows the biggest bestest berries are way in the back.


Bring along some pruning shears and clip away the sticker bushes as your pick.
Then you can reach all the way into the back without risking blood loss!
I found these rusty old gems in the barn!
 

When I got back to the house I was greeted by four little hands ready to dig in.
The Fancy Farm Girl and The Farm Manager both enjoyed a bowl full.
I got busy making this blackberry cobbler.
I prefer a crisp with an oatmeal topping, but The Farmer likes cobbler.
I also LOVE The Pioneer Woman and I think we would make great friends.

The only changes I made to the recipe were using Pamela's GF flour and I added a duck egg.
GF baking can be flat and duck eggs add a little fluff and richness.
Don't skimp on the milk either!
(Side note: There are a lot of health benefits to duck eggs. You can read about that here)
Plus, since it has an egg in it that makes it breakfast food!

While I was picking away I couldn't help but think about my
She had a berry patch out her front door and we used to go out and pick to our little hearts content.
I'm sure more berries ended up in our bellies than in the butter tubs she gave us.
Sometimes she would pick with us and sometimes we would hear the screen door spring creak open then slam shut only to find her standing on the flat rock porch
wiping her soft wrinkly hands on her apron.
She was a gentle lady who always let her grandkids and great-grandkids (I'm a great) help her.
She never made me feel as though I was in the way or a bother and she always had fig newtons on the table for snacking. 
If you were ever lucky enough to share in some of her fresh baked bread or one of her pies then you were lucky enough.

She was a hard working farmers wife.
What I wouldn't give for another tender moment with her soft hand touching mine.
Thankfully memories come back to us when we least expect them.
They flood our minds, overflow our hearts and sometimes fill our eyes with tears.
Not of sadness, but of overwhelming gladness.
I know that not everybody gets to have a great grandma well into their 20's and 
I'm thankful that today I got to spend an hour remembering a lady who always made me feel cherished, who taught me how to make bread and was never too busy to let me help.

I need to spend more time remembering to slow down and less time being too busy to let the little hands in our home help.
They create the best memories.

Blessed is me...

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