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 ...
It is thorough and hysterical! What more would we want?! ;-)
ReplyDeleteSix years wrapped up in a concise seven minutes - we couldn't possibly ask for more!
DeleteI know, right?!
DeleteWhat with all I want to read and see, The Game of Thrones is not high on my list. Maybe someday.
ReplyDeleteI'm afraid I'm addicted, so I really didn't need Samuel L. Jackson to tell me what's what.
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