More Blackberries!
I just wrote a related guest blog post for my friends over at Barn Owl Vintage, about how I picked berries in my youth.
Blackberry Picking
The other day I went to a local farm to pick blackberries. I have plenty of my own blackberries here at The Poem Farm, but they aren’t ripe yet, and they’re usually the size of a green pea, borne on arching stems that are so prickery you really should wear long sleeves to pick them. My friends run what used to be called a “truck” farm. They provide produce and fruit to local restaurants, the Saturday farmer’s market, and many families in the area.
As I’ve reported before now, I’m a bad bet to have even a half share of a weekly produce box. I’ll make a few salads and maybe a big veggie omelet but the rest of the stuff ends up in my compost pile, which is so wasteful I can hardly bear to admit it. So I buy at the farmer’s market, and try to spend my dollars equally between all my farmer friends. (more…)
89 Chairs
I’m not sure what’s happening, but some natural, organic process — maybe aging? maybe just living — is insisting that I simplify my life. A little voice in my head wants the same food for breakfast every day. My eyes feel tired of looking at all the stuff in my house: my great-grandmother’s tea cups, seashells I found in Key West displayed on a little wooden shelf bracket from Norway. The big drawer of loose photographs I never seem to deal with. Cast iron, mixing bowls, too many t-shirts.
I’m not a true hoarder, because I purge things every couple of years, and you can always walk unimpeded through my house. But there’s a lot of accumulation around me right now, and it’s driving me “bat guano crazy.” How many soup bowls does one woman need? I do not have house parties where luncheon for 12 is on the schedule. (more…)
And furthermore…
This is my second guest blog post for Women’s Voices for Change. A new one comes out tomorrow. I’ll be featured two Saturdays a month.
http://womensvoicesforchange.org/molly-fisk-do-something-backward.htm