Upon returning home from our recent voyage to the various mountains of Northern California, we found our yard bursting forth with the ripe fruit offered up by the July valley heat. When we first moved here, I planted some blackberries along the fence near the clothes line. It seemed like a good idea. I mean, it was a good idea. The berries have been really happy there with the morning sun and afternoon shade. They offer up their sweet tempting scent on the breeze while I hang out laundry. Often they are difficult to resist. But I tell myself to finish hanging up the clean clothes before indulging. On more than one occasion I didn't take my own advice and set some nice stains on otherwise clean laundry. I cannot be trusted.
I love the way the berries ripen in waves. There's always a few red ones that hold out a while longer while the bush offers up its dark sweet ones in the meantime. I pulled almost enough ripe ones off to make a crisp. Almost. It's a good thing that I also planted a Persian Mulberry tree in the way-back. Mulberries and Blackberries are a delightful combination for pies and cobblers.
Passing by our summer garden on the way to the orchard I was rewarded with views of cheerful sunflowers and zinnias, towering pole beans and corn, fat zucchinis and cucumbers, bursting fire of red jalapeños, juicy tomatoes, the pungent scent of ripe ambrosia melons, zesty basil and the hopeful remaining mounds of potatoes that the dog didn't yet dig up.
Aha! Mulberries! For years Michael referred to this tree is my $30 stick. I babied it along. I really didn't think it would survive, much less thrive. It took a good seven years or more before it started to produce fruit. And now I get rewarded with waves of ripe mulberries that surely outnumber our blackberries. This tree also throws out clumps of berries where some will be red and not yet ripe while hiding the juiciest purple gems beneath the shade of its leaves.
Mulberries are very delicate berries. I'm sure they don't travel well. That's probably why we don't see them in supermarkets. Just look at this hand after picking mulberries. I'd say I was caught red-handed. Guilty for sure. I would make up for it by making a crisp for dessert.
Here is my berry medley ready to be prepped for dessert. Nom nom nom.
I may have mentioned that Michael is the number one poultry farmer here. We have more chickens and turkeys than I can shake a stick at. How many, you ask? I really have no idea. Really. And those young turkeys are always getting into trouble. Once, when they were younger, a bunch went missing. He found them all clumped together in a food canister into which they had fallen and couldn't figure out how to escape. Recently while we were on vacation the young ones were escaping their pen and ranging with the older, bigger ones. Our resident Major Tom was having none of it and sort of terrorizing the young upstarts. Michael is regularly back there sorting birds into one area or another as they regularly re-sort themselves as they please.
The other evening we heard a clatter and found one of the young white ones perched on the roof of the chicken house. Turkeys!!
Also, when we returned home from our recent vacation, Amira took off again. She was invited by Henry's family to go with them on their boat up to Lake Almanor. I think they had a great time. Henry's parents shared some great photos with us.
On the boat at sunset ...
Relaxing at the country club ...
Sharing a meal ...
Valerie hasn't yet been able to luxuriate in time off. She is really putting her all into the fast-paced CNA program. I think she is really into it. She was taking our blood pressures the other day and showing us disgusting pictures of gangrene - no thank you! Here she is collapsed into the hammock on the back patio trying to have a private phone conversation when I couldn't resist barging in to take a photo. She hadn't even changed out of her scrubs!
Now that we are back at home, we can give the pets the attention they deserve. They had the critter sitter come by daily to give them treats and visit. But, hanging out on game night with us is the bees knees.
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