I picked these yesterday, the last of the blackberries. If I was just another foot taller and had a longer reach I could pick a further ten pounds, but sadly we will have to leave the best of the blackberries, the really large and juicy fruits, for the birds. As it is I don’t do too bad on the picking front bearing in mind that in my walking boots I must be at the very edge of six foot and sheer determination, heavy jeans and tenacity more than make up for the want of a little extra height. There was one particularly painful moment when reaching for some fruit, the wind took a particularly tall and well covered stinging nettle which then swept against my hand, made me jump in pain and I then impaled my stung hand on a really nasty inch long thorn which became embedded. It made me ouch and as I carried on picking, I was ouching under my breath for a good fifteen minutes.

So I’ve given up that game for the year. Although…. there is just one little area that still has fruits ripening, so if we don’t get a frost and my memory fades about the pain, as it always does, I may be back for another pound or so.