When I was a kid, there were huge "raspberry" bushes growing about halfway down the backyard. We could fill a basket every afternoon with these sweet little berries. Most of the bushes have long been cleared, but a few persistent vines still push their way out from the edges of the woods. These became very popular with Caroline as we walked around the yard, and I was always a little relieved that each day there would be only a dozen or so ripe berries to pick, otherwise I think she would have stood there all day, eating until she turned into a berry.
Someone once told us these were "wine berries," but I don't know if that is right either. But whatever they are, their tangy sweetness and the fuzzy, sticky little flowers among prickly vines are all potent reminders of my own younger summers, and I'm glad these plants have stuck around long enough to bring back those memories.
*****
I hate slacking off on the blog, because the funny thing is that life just keeps happening, and the topics to cover keep piling up while the older, yet important-to-remember stuff gets more distant... and there is almost no way to recover. Then there is the picture problem: Caroline has developed a rather ugly obsession with the ol' iPhone, such that any glimpse of it, like me taking a quick picture, results in her totally abandoning whatever she was doing nicely in favor of throwing a tantrum about not getting to hold the phone. As a result, I thought I had very few pictures from our whole trip, but somehow there are still some 200 mediocre shots (many taken by Amy and William) that represent some of the moments and memories I'd like to blog about. Urg!
Which is all a long, whiney way of saying that I'm going to attempt a summer debrief in ten small posts, with maybe just a picture or two each. I hope that, for my own sake at least that will help recapture all the joy of our CT visit.
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