Well, my cherry trees are plum trees afterall. Canning plums sounds just plain disgusting, bringing back memories of stewed prunes in my elementary cafeteria. I wondered about jam, so I went websurfing. I found a recipe for raspberry-plum jam on the net. After mentioning the raspberry-plum jam to Mike, he suggested we should go blackberrying.

Thus, this morning, we got up, stuffed a couple of coolers (with soda, sandwich fixings, and one with bowls and ice) in the car and drove about 1.5 hours away to pick blackberries. We took a break and went to a Mel's diner to have a cold drink and relax, and told the owner we'd been berrying (because the kids' faces were smeared with berry juice and our clothes looked pretty ratty from stepping through the brush). The guy was said that if I brought him a few berries, he'd give us our "break food" free, in the future. I asked him for a cup and gave him some berries just 'cuz and he was about speechless. I didn't think blackberries could have that effect on people. But, I may have to go back next weekend for free lemonades/diet coke and zucchini sticks. :)

I think I got sunburned through my shirt a little and on my face, despite my broad- brimmed straw hat and spf45. I've got scratches all over my arms and legs. The moral of the story in this instance is that I will wear jeans next time, just black ones for the staining, instead of the $5 thin pants from Kmart. I usually get an occasional scratch in jeans, but I'm pretty torn up from wearing the thin pants. My shorts wearing will be limited and my dresses will be long. I had to shower to loofa the skin pulls and thorns out of my skin. When I undressed, all the brush crumbs and raspberry fur fell out of my clothes.

We all had fun, picked somewhere in the neighborhood of 6 quarts of berries. I've got to go buy pectin, sugar, and sugarless pectin tomorrow for a couple different versions of jam. The plums should be here in a couple weeks, and we have already scouted out where to find blackberries at higher elevations, which should be ripe to coincide with the plum harvest.

Russell at one point asked if I was tired of picking berries, to which Mike replied somewhat incredulously,"Are you kidding? Your mom would stay out here and pick them in the dark, if she could." Is this just a mental illness thing on my part to love berrying?

I just thought it was cool to take the kids because it's just something different to do. We were careful to explain to Genny, that she has to taste them to know what ones are good to pick. Russell would ask,"Is this one good to pick?" And we'd say,"Eat it and see." I remember berrying with my mom and just loving it. Half the fun is that every third berry goes into your can.

Taking the whole family was really fun, til the kids got tired, and then we just piled in the car and headed home -- it was nice not to be on a schedule. We stopped at the lake to get dinner at Denny's and then finished the last leg of the trip watching the sun set over the lake and heading over the summit home.

Tomorrow, I can and bake, for today, I have purple stained fingertips and fingernails, which I will have to scrub carefully and often, to not look have Addams' family fingers.