Raspberry Love by Monroe Sprawl
If ever I dies an’ yo ain’t certain I’s dead,
Just butter some biscuit an’ new made bread
An’ spread ‘em all over with raspberry jam,
Then step mighty sofly to whar I am
An’ move dem vittles above my head, --
If my mouf don’t open I’m certainly dead.
I moved to California in 1957 and for many years I drove back up to Portland about every other year to visit family. My mother always accused me of being there for the raspberries, rather than to see the family. I wasn't, but it was certainly a great bonus. It had been a long time since I had enjoyed fresh off the canes Oregon raspberries, so when I went through on a road trip in July 2005, I ate all I could. I still dream of them. Imagine four raspberries large enough to fill my palm - heaven!
2 comments:
I can't pick our raspberries fast enough. Every time I look at the canes they are loaded up with newly ripe berries. Of course we are eating them as fast as we can pick them. Vanilla ice cream and berries--a little splash of vanilla rum over the top is even better! Heaven on earth.
My goodness what a beautiful photo, it makde my mouth water...I wish I lived next door and I would trade you tomatoes for raspberries.
GREAT blog, thank you.
Mary Lou Weidman
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