I can't eat a raspberry without being taken to my childhood. It's absolutely delicious! My grandmother and grandfather had what seemed like a trillion raspberry bushes. I spent many afternoons helping grandma pick the berries. It was never a bore because my grandma also makes everything so much fun. We would pluck the berries and put them in a washed out plastic milk carton with the top cut out but the handle still in tact for ease in holding it. Most of the time I would eat more than I picked.
Raspberries always came in handy when it was time to play "house" in the little shack behind grandmas house that resembles a minature house or in their 1960 Shasta trailer parked next to their garage. They would be dinner or the special ingredient for my pretend stew. The best treat was eating raspberries on top vanilla ice cream in the bright pink dessert dishes. I believe that grandma's berries are so much better than the berries I pick up at the grocery store. But, then again, everything is better at Grandma's house.
1 comment:
I love this post Jen! Mostly because it mimics thoughts that I've been having lately. I keep seeing raspberries in the store and it always makes me think of my grandma's raspberries. They were ten times better than any I've ever had from the store and my grandma made the best desserts with them. All so true!
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