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Berry hands!

‘Tis the season for wild black raspberry picking! Every since our family outings last year collecting the sweet little berries, we’ve been enjoying everything from cobblers to muffins to yogurt infused with the bounteous crop we reaped.

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Jack found a few wild raspberries growing in our backyard and after cutting out a dead tree and trimming back some other bushes, the raspberries have increased exponentially. Once he returned from scout camp, we took a stroll outside and did some picking.

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The girls are expert berry pickers now. It’s fun to watch them pluck the fruit off the vine–I laugh when only about one in five berries actually makes it into their buckets because they’re busy eating the rest. I love that they love to eat fresh.

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Ah, Jack is up to his usual antics…

Jack, in true form, got into a little mischief while the Evelyn and Claire picked on one side of the bush with him and Kate and I were on the other. When I announced our bucket was full and I was tired, sweaty and ready to come in, Jack and the older girls giggled and said they were coming. When I rounded the bush, I found them painted with berry juice. Oh, Jack. Good thing it was bath night and it came off easy enough otherwise the girls would have been up singing at church for Father’s Day with berry juice war paint on their faces.

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Evelyn lost in the sea of berries.

I think we’ll make some jam with the first round of berries. There are still plenty on the bush but between us, the chickens, the birds and the insects, not a berry will go unappreciated. Thank you Mother Nature for another bountiful (and free!) harvest!

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Welcome to the farm!

True stories of raising children, remodeling, braving the elements and plotting out life, all while living on a humble acreage in central Indiana.

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