A blog that's too sweet? You decide. No-cook blackberry spread, page 152

Just before  Fred and I married, when he had graduated college but I had not yet, he lived in the country on a a farm adjacent to his parents. The land around his house was hilly and scrappy with cedars and briars. Fred's landscaping maintenance  at the house was to borrow his dad's tractor to brush hog the "yard." Beyond the fenced in area, cattle took care of the mowing for you. Fred got a black lab from a coworker of his named Backie (the dog that is, not the coworker) that kept him company on the farm. Fred and Blackie had a good, simple relationship. They ran together in the early morning on the gravel road that went between his dad's and his neighbor's fields. Then Fred would leave for work, Blackie would roam the farm and perhaps beyond, and they'd meet up again in the afternoon.

The land around Fred's place was crazy with wild blackberries. The rough hills were in the perfect stage of succession for them--grown up enough to allow time for shrubs to grow, but not grown up enough for hardwood trees to shade them out yet.

I very much remember Fred telling me when the blackberries were ripe and that he and Blackie would go together to pick them in the hot summer evenings. Fred would pick and Blackie would eat the berries right off the bush. Then, Blackie would cough and cough because the blackberry stems would stratch his throat. I wasn't sure if Blackie ate the berries because he liked the taste or because he wanted to partner with whatever Fred was doing.

I remember coming down from college to visit Fred during blackberry season on a day that he was working. I had gotten to the farm before Fred was home and decided to kill time by picking some of the blackberries myself. Up the hill I trotted, and up the hill trotted Blackie after me. I picked, Blackie ate and coughed. I very much liked having Blackie there to keep me company. And, I so remember Blackie's absolute loyalty to Fred. As it approached time for Fred to be coming home, Blackie started heading to the house. That was his routine. I kept calling him back trying to keep him with me. But, Blackie wouldn't have it. It was time to go meet Fred and that was what he was going to do.

Fast forward 16 years. What's changed? Two boys are added to the mix. Blackie is long gone but we have a new black lab cross named Josey.  It's blackberry season again.  Fred's been working out of town for several days  and I'm waiting for his return this afternoon. It's feeling all pretty similar really.

I made the no-cook blackberry spread from the book this week with blackberries that Fred and the boys picked. It's equal parts blackberries and sugar (which as it turns out is a tad too sweet for me) mashed with a potato masher and refrigerated. You can't get any simpler than that. Perhaps I'll add more blackberries.

Mostly, I'm thinking of Fred on his way home, blackberry season and the hot Missouri summer, and me once again filling my time until Fred comes home. He's got two more loved ones looking forward to his return than he did 16 years ago, his new dog is not quite as sane as Blackie  (but just as lovable, in my opinion) and we are all looking forward to Fred coming home, especially me.