My Poor Berries

Years and years ago, we had about a gazillion blackberry bushes way out back in the woods and red raspberry bushes even further back, all wild and yummy and, of course, free. I hated trucking all the way out there, though, and got the bright idea of dragging a bunch of bushes up closer to the house. I planted them all over the yard, and 20+ years later my efforts have finally paid off.

Last year when the girls came to live with us, I showed them where my berries were growing and taught them the difference between the ripe red raspberries and the not-ripe blackberries, which are also red. There were not many bushes and only a few berries, so I let them have at it and they gobbled them up. This year, the bushes went ape shit, growing thick as can be over an area about 20 x 40 feet and under all the tree rows and even out in the front yard near the road. I saw the berries coming in, huge clusters of berries, getting all excited thinking about blackberry pie. Of course, this year I taught my two youngest how to tell the difference between the ripe and not-ripe berries, and all four of them were having a high time, picking berries and eating them. They didn't get all the raspberries and most of them dropped off and onto the ground, so next year they will spread even more, but they were patiently awaiting those blackberries. I noticed a few days ago that they were ripening beautifully and I was gearing up for that pie. I just went outside to get some berries and they are gone.

Where did my berries go?

Those four little stinkers were out there eating them off the bushes, shoveling them in as fast as their little fingers could pick them or dropping them on the ground and smooshing them. So much for that pie. In a few hours they will probably be yelling about belly aches and pooping in high gear. I'm dying for pie and trying to convince my middle boy to go alllllll the way out back in the woods to the original berry patch and get some more berries, but he thinks I'm torturing him.