Yesterday I carried a flattened cardboard box to the recycle Dumpster in the office parking lot when what to my wondering eyes should appear but a wall of ripe blackberries. Nostalgia hit me between the eyes, and my mother was sending me into the house to get a bowl. I had to remind her that I was “on the clock” and could pick for only 10 minutes.
At 5 o’clock I was back at the bushes with pie on my mind.
I didn’t have to twist Ruby’s arm to pick with me. Of course two-year-olds pop more berries in their mouths than in the bowl.
Looks like a pie to me.
Most would wait until the filling cooled and set. No time for that.
Just like Mother used to make.