Raspberries remind me of picking them in my grandmother's backyard when I was small. She would ask me to help her gather them and the intention was to make jam. If I didn't eat all of the raspberries, we would occasionally get a jar or two and then we'd eat it all up over the two weeks I was visiting her in the summer.
Buying berry fruits reminds me of being an adult. The independance to go to the grocery store and stock up on treat items like strawberries and blueberries and raspberries and blackberries and the non berry fruit melon and not have to worry about how much I'm spending on them because I won't have enough for staples like milk and bread.
Fall reminds me of piling into the family vehicle - either the station wagon or the van - and venturing out with everyone to the apple orchard to pick apples, swing in the trees and ride on the old style horse wagon. At the end we'd gather in the converted bar for some warm hot cider and apple pie, made fresh from the trees we had just been swinging in.
Snow reminds me of trekking out in the woods to get the perfect Christmas tree with the entire family, all of us kids going "dad, what about this one?" as he skeptically examined, saw in hand, each and every suggestion before choosing one we could all agree on.
The power of memory.
Buying berry fruits reminds me of being an adult. The independance to go to the grocery store and stock up on treat items like strawberries and blueberries and raspberries and blackberries and the non berry fruit melon and not have to worry about how much I'm spending on them because I won't have enough for staples like milk and bread.
Fall reminds me of piling into the family vehicle - either the station wagon or the van - and venturing out with everyone to the apple orchard to pick apples, swing in the trees and ride on the old style horse wagon. At the end we'd gather in the converted bar for some warm hot cider and apple pie, made fresh from the trees we had just been swinging in.
Snow reminds me of trekking out in the woods to get the perfect Christmas tree with the entire family, all of us kids going "dad, what about this one?" as he skeptically examined, saw in hand, each and every suggestion before choosing one we could all agree on.
The power of memory.
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