Blackberry picking

I love picking blackberries. Get my dish and off I go to find a blackberry bush. This year they are the juiciest for a good few years. It's so satisfying picking free fruit and then making them into crumbles, pies and jam. This year I'm having to freeze before use as we still have no kitchen.

I must admit it's also quite a sad time this year. I have always blackberried 'at home' on the farm. I knew where all the best blackberry bushes were but this year there is no 'home'. My mum's house was sold in February and I guess this annual blackberry hunt has had to change location. As a child I always knew when the blackberries were ripe as my Auntie Mary and family would turn up from Sheffield to pick them. One year she fell into a blackberry bush - I could show you which one. Even my Dad would sometimes grab a little pan after working on the farm and fill it to the brim with succulent berries. These were usually made into a pie or stewed with the late addition of golden syrup by my mum.

My mission is to go out every day and fill a container until they end. Of course I must stop on Oct 1st for by then the devil will have got the little black berries. Rural folklore or is it just plain sensible not to pick berries passed their best?