Raspberries

[smokingboot]

The people who owned this house before us apparently created one of the most beautiful gardens in the neighbourhood. When they decided to sell, they uprooted every single plant here except the raspberries and blackcurrant stalks. These just create a hopeless green mass against the garden wall, with a few random danglers. Only this year, there are a lot more of them.

The apple tree is flourishing, the plum's back properly, but the raspberries caught my attention this morning.They are tiny and straggly and small. They also taste delicious.

I had to wash them very well and pick out the harder greying drupelets, but sprinkled on breakfast cereal they were fine, so fine in fact, that I thought about staking them next year. But the universal law of anti-gardening states that the moment I attempt to grow anything, vegetable stubbornness will occur. Fruit as a favour, no problem from these Earth Divas, but they'll have no truck with this making it work nonsense as if I have any say in the matter.

We have blackcurrants too, albeit a pointlessly small number. And what does one actually do with blackcurrants anyway? They look promising but I'm not sure there's more than a glassful of juice there, even with added apple.

I am very tempted to walk up Ravencraig today. Yes, there's the danger of being a woman alone in a lonely place, but I am too tired to go into Edinburgh and out along the East Coast as I planned. Still, the sun is shining; I should go out before it changes its mind.