Wild Berries

Around here, in the PNW, there are lots of wild blackberries. There are other berries too: salmon berries, thimble berries, huckleberries, marionberries, strawberries, and more. The wild blackberries that grow invasively, are not native to the area. The native blackberry is tiny and grows along banks that face south. Once, in a yard where I lived, the edge of the yard facing south was not just where you parked your car along the street, but it was an area I was landscaping, so when these women were picking my wild blackberries, I shooed them away. Around here, rural property seems to be owned by all—these women challenged me, saying it was the bank along the road, the berries were free for the taking. I informed them that it was part of my yard. Imagine folks picking fruit from your trees along the parking strip. Yes it is in theory the city or county's property, but you are keeping it up.

Well, anyway, they left. And I picked the rest of my wild berries. The small blackberry is a delight, sweet and perky. It is harder to come by as there aren't a lot of them in comparison to the big blackberry that is everywhere, and not to be cultivated--remember. The small berry is good in pie and jelly and jam. Have you ever made freezer jam? You just wash and mash berries. Sweeten, add pectin and freeze. Easy does it. Of course this jam goes bad quickly once you remove it from the freezer, as it isn't cooked. So eat it up fast. For real recipes see Wild Jams and Jellies

My grandmother Mattie made jam from thimble berries. We'd collect them along the road—there's that road thing again. But this was at the lake and the plants along the road weren't in anyone's yard, they were just part of the woods, growing profusely everywhere. Thimble berries are bright red caps and when you pick them, the juice comes out like blood. Some don't like the flavor—I do. And since I was a child when I learned to love them, I have a special fondness for their flavor. Grandma made the cooked jelly and she sealed it with paraffin. I used to make jelly and seal it with paraffin, but inevitably the jam would mold. I did something wrong, obviously. So I learned to water bath the jelly. Then these jeweled jars: red and purple and ahhhh, beautiful jars of jelly would go on the shelf in the fruit room. Like a treasure chest of jewels.

There are still blackberries to be had, although it has started to rain now, so the picking is getting slim. This is perhaps the last weekend to pick. And as for thimble berries—spring is when you pick those. They are one of the first berries on. Thimble and salmon. Be sure you add them to your larder.

Happy gardening,

Flower

Cats in the Garden

My cats, all five or six of them that I've had through the years, have always been drawn to my gardens. Ozzie was the best at digging up my plants. Scooter had a deformed paw, so wasn't a good digger. Thunked the moles on the head, that was all. The other cats from my past, Jude and Cloud didn't seem to be as much of a problem at digging up plants as Ozzie was. Ozzie would scratch up the tiny carrot plants, the teensy beets, and new leaves of broccoli or cabbage plants. After I replanted and replanted again, I finally got smart, coming up with my own method of protecting the plants: inserting sticks along the row, just bits of alder branches or other brush from clearing, usually ocean spray or salmon berry, wild plants of the PNW.

Now I have an indoor cat, Sid, who only digs up the bags I keep in the closet and a hat that's fallen from the shelf, he can pick at it beneath the door of the closet. He's a nut for hats and gloves and socks, anything he can pull at with his teeth; I really think he thinks he's finding a small animal to rip apart. He's a house cat who tries to climb the walls, kills small animals in the form of gloves, and chases mice (my toes) that make their way beneath the covers. Once I foiled Ozzie with the sticks stuck along the rows, I finally got my garden started. It was a good solution; I pulled out the sticks when the plants were large enough to stand up for themselves.

As far as gardening goes, this is the time of year to turn things under and plant a cover crop. I may plant a cover crop, but probably I won't. It's not that I'm lazy, it's just that I'm trying to find my way through this divorce grief. It's overwhelming to think about trying to do much other than make my way through each day. When they say "one day at a time," they really do mean it. Today, I wrote and treated a client (I do CranioSacral therapy for a real job, that and teaching writing) and I do the other things I love, making art and gardening just for the heck of it. Well, more than that really, if I wasn't for doing these things, I'd go stir-crazy, climbing the walls like my cat.

Tomorrow I will weed, the final weeding for the year, perhaps. Brenda will help me and the grandbaby too. We'll make some headway, I hope, if it isn't raining that is. It rained hard earlier today, hailed even. It was crazy. It is early for fall. Snow in the pass already.

Okay then, happy day.

Ciao, Flower