Berry On!
- Jul 13, 2019
- 3 min read
I was at the Earth Home again today. With high temperatures in the 90s for the next week, I get my biking and errands done before 9 a.m., if I can arrange it. Today I went to the Farmers Market early and then headed north. Because the Earth Home is built into the hill, the earth keeps it naturally cool. I knew my parents were going up there this morning and I wanted to surprise them. I arrived two minutes before they did, time enough to be playing the piano
for them when they walked in. I enjoyed seeing them both smile. As I wrote this, I thought of how teens often try to sneak out of the house. (I was going to write that as a teen I snuck out of the house but anyone who knows me, knows I would not have done that!) Instead, I snuck INTO the house.
Mom had much she wanted to do and a few things to look for so I took Dad to a hardware store in Montello. We also drove around town to see the changes since we had last been there. As always, we have plenty of conversation in the car. I've been secretly trying to record some of the conversations of Dad's recollections. Some of what I hear are stories I've heard before. Others are new to me. I truly am enjoying hearing them all. Churches seem to trigger Dad's memories. He recalled playing organ for a service in Westfield. Later, Mom reminded him that he also played for a service in Wisconsin Dells and that he enjoyed that service since they sang fast and consequently, he had to work to keep up with them! I have many memories of my own from the Earth Home. The people Mom & Dad bought the original land from had sheep that grazed in the woods, keeping the underbrush under control. In the first few years that we were caretakers of the land, the black raspberries were amazing! The forest was loaded with them. Over the years, there would be small patches of them but many other plants seemed to crowd them out. Perhaps this is just a banner year for the berries or perhaps it is because the woods has been a little neglected, but there is a bumper crop this year. I went to the Earth Home to visit, read, write and make music. I wasn't exactly dressed for berry picking but that wasn't about to stop me! Fortunately, I had my rain boots in my car. My shorter skirt didn't protect me as well from the mosquitos, ticks, deer flies, nettles, or sharp barbs of the berries, but I wasn't going to be denied. At least I didn't have to worry about rattlesnakes and bears!
As I was picking, I remembered my mother-in-law Rose Mary telling how Linda was always her best berry picker. Linda's other siblings would snitch berries as they picked but because Linda didn't like them, her pail was always the most full! I remember picking black caps, as they called them, at the farm a few times. There were ice cream pails with string around them ready for the season. This feature enabled one to suspend the pail from her neck and pick with two hands. Necessity is the mother of invention. Or is that, necessity is the mother-in-law of invention? While I'm on the subject, I learned other outdoor tips from Rose Mary. When I plant peas, I use the natural trellis method that she perfected. Essentially, this means letting the weeds get tall enough to support the pea plants. Maybe this reduces the yield a bit but it sure is less work! I find it difficult to believe that Rose Mary passed away six years ago last week. I miss her smile and laugh. This month I am making a concerted effort to restrict plastic packaging and to not eat processed foods. I need to learn to forage and to find local sources for foods I like. For example, grocery store blueberries always come in plastic so I will no longer buy them. Right now, the mulberries and black caps are filling the void. I planted some elderberry plants this year so I hope to be picking those in a year or two.
The shade of the woods provided some relief from the sun. In the quiet of its depths, I often think of days gone by and the balance that existed with the seasons. Time was measured in moon phases, or seasonal phases. As I feel time accelerating as I age, this seasonal measurement seems to invade my thinking more often. I derive more pleasure from simpler things. Eating fresh peas, tasting that first tomato, all benchmarks of another year, all reasons to keep on keeping on.
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