The berries did "color my han," as Gibbie put it. For a day or two the evidence of our forage-ery remained.
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I put plenty of red mulberries in the pie, but they're best when almost black. Their flavor is sweet and mild, not tart at all like most berries. Perfect for children. Very unripe berries are white. As they ripen, they turn creamy, pink, and red, by turns, finally darkening into a deep purple.
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Qualification: I mentioned Samuel Thayer's book, Forager's Harvest, a few posts ago. I am still enamored with it; he writes so well, and the information is so practical and thorough. In no way do I want to set myself out as a teacher on wild foods; I'm just sharing here my enthusiasm over our foray into the forest. The aforementioned book doesn't cover mulberries, but my tools for harvesting were inspired by him.
A few days after berrying, Gibbie randomly asked, "Who is God?" Knowing I wouldn't be able to give even the beginning of a complete answer, I started by talking to him about how God made everything. He offered, "the Sun?" Yes, we listed some more things, "...and Mulberries?" Yes! He was getting excited now, and danced around the room a bit, "and Dibbie and Mama and Evra!!"
Yes, Gibbie, I too am so glad that he made berries for us to pick, and made me and you and your brother. Such good good gifts.
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you load it with riches;
God's rivers brim with water
to provide their grain.
This is how you provide it;
by drenching its furrows, by levelling its ridges,
by softening it with showers, by blessing the first-fruits.
You crown the year with your bounty,
abundance flows wherever you pass;
the desert pastures overflow,
the hillsides are wrapped in joy,
the meadows are dressed in flocks,
the valleys are clothed in wheat,
what shouts of joy, what singing!
from psalm 65
1 comment:
Gibbie's comments about God are awesome. I am going to read them to my class tomorrow morning. Goes exactly with what we've been talking about.
On Sunday in church with Gibbie, I mentioned as i was kneeling to pray and he looked at me, that I was praying.
Gibbie: "what's praying?"
Me: "Praying means talking to God."
Gibbie: "I just listen."
Hmm... a little child shall lead them.
Myra
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