A few weeks ago Rob and I picked blackberries near his parent's house - lots and lots of them. Rob's mom made a pie that night, then we made a pie, then I made blackberry crumb bars, then we made blackberry pancakes, then I threw the rest away (it wasn't much, and it needed to be done). I just recently learned that blackberries don't grow in such abundance in other places. They are everywhere here, so we don't have to buy them. In fact, they are a thorn (bah-hah) in many yard owners' sides because they grow wildly and take over. There are many metaphors to life found in berry picking and I can't wait until my next assignment to speak in church!
We were so proud of this pie. I mean, just look at it. It tasted amazing and didn't even fall apart when sliced! We shared it with the missionaries, a lady I visit teach and her daughter, as well as Alicia and James. This is my first pie, and I couldn't have done it without the help of Rob, the instructions from his mom, and the need to finally use the pie dish I got from Linds and the girls for my bridal shower!
Blackberry pancakes. Purple and sweet.
Then we picked blueberries...