The three big boys and I went raspberry picking this past weekend at our favorite raspberry farm, Candee Farms. Mr. Candee informed Mark when he called that there weren't many berries but we decided to go anyway. Mr. C was right, there weren't a whole lot of raspberries on the bushes but that's probably because he's letting them get a little overrun. Which makes me sad because this is the only place I know of that you can pick your own raspberries and there's nothing quite so delicious as homemade raspberry jam.
Anyway, we picked what we could, about four pints, and supplemented the rest with nasty California berries from the grocery store. The twins helped do the mashing and Sunday morning we enjoyed some of what might be our last batch of homemade raspberry jam. It was so good. The boys each took a tiny jar to school for their teachers--they were so proud of their hard work--and there are a few other jars reserved for a few special people in our lives. And the last four or five tiny jars will be marked "special occassion" and brought out only for things like Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners. And we'll just hope that God will bless Mr. Candee's raspberries next summer and give him a bumper crop, just especially for us. Either that or we're going to have to plant our own really soon.
