It's time to pick blackberries again. Maybe. Mom told me that in Kentucky, you know it's time to head on out to pick the wild berries around the 4th of July. She said they should be ripe by then and the June bugs shouldn't have swarmed in to decimate the canes yet. But, for the last couple of years, the haul from the canes has been minimal at best. Last year, I waited to head out until a day or two before the 4th and they had already been picked clean by the loathsome bugs. The year before, a drought caused the crop to be puny and not even worth donning the overalls, long sleeved shirt, and hats in the sticky July heat.
This year, we have new canes growing on the road up to the barn. And they have been ripening for the last couple of weeks. As of yesterday, I already have over 4 quarts of blackberries picked from these new canes. And there are still a ton more that are bright red and won't be ready for almost a week. In light of this, I headed out to my regular blackberry patch yesterday morning. At first, I thought the June bugs had already been through as I didn't see a single red or black berry. But, as I tromped through the high weeds, scratched my face on the thistle thorns. and started at every sound in the woods, I discovered that the canes on the farm hadn't even popped their berries yet. The blossoms had just died back. Not a single cane showed any signs that my voracious enemy had been through.
So, this year it looks like Mom is right and not right. Very odd that the canes so close to the house have proved her wrong and yet those only over the hill may have proved her right. In any event, I will have pints and pints of blackberry jam for the winter. Too bad my nephews who had stolen so many of my jars the last time I made jam aren't here to do so again.
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