My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters! Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...
Ah yes, it was just like that! And long.. Wish I hadn't stayed up quite so late now :(
ReplyDeleteWell, there's something mesmerizing about those election returns. It's hard not to stick with them.
DeleteMy husband is a political junkie so I had to show this to him. Makes me want to go back to the days of the Univac predicting the results.
ReplyDeleteIt would certainly be a lot "cleaner" prediction than having to listen to the so-called pundits pontificating.
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