Officially Summer

Well folks, summertime is here officially. I'd say unofficially, summer arrived weeks ago. But officially, the calendar tell us those hot, dog days are here to stay.

Summertime: Billie Holiday

After a day of working this past Sunday, Shane and I made our way through the thick evening heat to mom & dad's for a small & quiet impromptu father's day celebration {officially my fam is celebrating his special day this coming weekend because my siblings were scattered}, but my oldest sister decided to surprise him by driving down and cooking him a steak dinner just to show some extra love {since officially it was father's day}. So Shane and I decided to make a slight detour after picking me up from work to get in on the little celebration. We arrived in time for dessert: blackberry cobbler, one of my families all time favorite.

The blackberry cobblers my mom makes are special in that each one holds special memories. Memories of my childhood summers when the time was just right to head across the pond to the "coastal field" {as we always called it} for some blackberry picking. I can remember mom waking my 4 sibling and me up just before daybreak {usually with a frown and a grumble on our breath}, explaining she'd thank us when we were through. So groggily we'd pull on our old jeans and tennis shoes and head to our field where the wild blackberries grew. After giving us each a small container we'd start a'pick'n just as the sun came over the horizon. Sometimes the bushes would be heavy with large plump fruit, other years when it had been very dry they'd be slim pickin's literally. I especially remember my inner competitor coming out in seeing if I could fill my container the fastest or how many times I'd empty it into the larger bucket usually sitting close to mama. And of course there was the shouts of triumph to the group as one displayed an especially large and juicy berry prior to popping it into our mouths without remorse. But we'd always walk away a couple hours later with a few scratches, a couple bug bites, many stained fingertips and a sense of accomplishment. Then it was back to the house to wash them and, for the majority, pack them away in the freezer for another time.

Its been many years since I've been blackberry picking. And our coastal field no longer holds our wild back berry bushes but large chicken houses built by my uncle. So when mama explained that she'd used her last berries from the freezer on this pie, there was a little tug on my heart as I realized that I was eating the last bit of fruit from our labors. At that moment I wished mom had gotten me up early a couple more summer mornings. But my heart and memory thanked her too, as I she said we would & have many times over, as I took another bite, this one perhaps even sweeter than the last.