I tell ya, times are tough here on the old farmstead. I'm forced to make my own soap and forage for berries for crying out loud. Okay, I'm not forced. I'm doing it willingly. My urban friends look at me like I've plum lost my mind. But they didn't get a taste of that cobbler! I've managed to harvest a little over twelve cups of black raspberries so far. I've made the cobbler to die for, eight half pints of jam and the most amazing ice cream topping you can imagine.
Granted I wasn't too keen on venturing out into the woods to gather the berries at first. Out of genuine concern for the starving woodland creatures I left a lot of berries out there where I would have had to wade into the brush too far. That's until I tasted the cobbler. The next day I was out there loudly announcing "Oh merry woodland creatures, I've come to take your berries." On day three of berry picking we ran across this.
It's the fruit of the Red Mulberry tree. After looking it up it seems it's edible. Quite tasty in fact. I've decided to leave these for the merry woodland creatures for two reasons.
A. I've never heard of anyone around here eating mulberry pie.
B. I can't afford the hospital bills that would soon follow my foray up the ladder.
Of course I'd never heard of paw paws before we moved here either. But I made a pie last year. I think I"ll try something new with them this year. Not sure what yet.
The prehistoric apple tree in the back yard is overwhelmed with fruit this year. I'd say this is the eating apple of choice. Probably an old fashioned version of the golden delicious variety. Too bad it's 40 foot tall and my ladder is only ten. The chickens seem to like the ones that fall.
There's also the baking apple. Not much of this tree left after being here a million years then getting struck by lightning. I'm going to attempt to make a cutting of both apple trees and plant them somewhere. Won't provide me with any fruit in my lifetime, but maybe a future generation someday.
The cherry trees really performed this year. Too bad I don't like cherries. The birds did an amazing job of picking them. If I could only get them to then drop them in a little basket. Maybe next year.
But it's the persimmon trees that will someday drive me to drink. I really want to harvest them, but they're not even remotely convenient. And you have to wait until the first frost before they're ripe. Who the heck wants to be out in the cold perched precariously at the top of a frost laden ladder picking persimmons? I'd have to say this was not one of Mother Nature's finer moments.