I am a prisoner to my raspberry bushes. They fruit faster than I can pick them. Two and a half hours and I have only done the north side of the bushes. The next morning I get up and do the south side of the bushes, but the sun continues to ripen the berries on the north, and so they have to be picked the next day as well.
Miranda was making us raspberry kuchen every morning. In the evenings we eat ice-cream covered with freshly sugared berries slathered on top. Rapsberry vinegrette is now our favorite dressing:
1/3 cup canola oil (I used olive oil)
1/3 lemon juice (sometimes I use freshly squeezed lime juice)
2 tablespoons honey
1 cup crushed raspberries
The dressing is to go on a bed of arugula leaves on which lays some blanched asparagrus, some sprouts and raspberries are spread on top. Bonnie came in after work to help us in the kitchen one evening. She took the asparagus, chopped it and put it in a different salad. What does it matter? Everything tastes good with that dressing on top.
Mary's favorite bran muffin recipe calls for raspberries -- frozen so that they don't loose their shape as they are folded into the batter. So out came the muffin tins today.
Joaquim bought me some Certo so that I can make jam. I notice that the recipe asks me to take half of the fruit and strain the seeds out of it, to make a finer product.
Wah! Picking the berries is taking so long. The job is only fun when there is someone picking alongside me. At those times, I no longer feel that I am a prisoner to my raspberries.