Pick of the day. (Well, yesterday.)

Wild raspberries

  • are quite small,
  • are very good at hiding
  • (particularly behind stinging nettles and in terrible thickets)
  • are very prickly
  • need to be picked in the short window between raw and rotten
  • (which is difficult to recognise especially in a bush that hasn’t been picked and has plenty of the latter kind of berries)
  • take a fairly long time to pick because of all of the above
  • and can be rather sour.

And that is one of the things I did on Saturday, in about an hour and a half, the others being a spot of cleaning and a lot of detective fiction reading.

I don’t know what it is about Sundays, but I always plan to do a million and one things and usually end up doing nothing much until the afternoon and then getting a bit depressed about it already being Sunday afternoon and having wasted half the day and not having enough time to do all I needed to do, and so giving up hope of doing anything at all. It’s a pattern, and not a particularly nice one. Any advice gratefully received.

I froze the raspberries. What should I do with them, though? They aren’t the prettiest lot, nor very sweet, and they are a mix between raw and borderline mouldy, so they need to be cooked one way or another.


Howl at the moon

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