mulberry picking

The only good that ever came out of any 'superfood’ craze was when the big thing was mulberries, and one of my co-workers (who I hated) was going to buy some dried mulberries online for like $20 a pound, and I, knowing that mulberry bushes grow like weeds around our area, said “Hey hold off on that I can get you fresh for $10 a pound.”

And then I took a couple gallon buckets and picked like 8 pounds in about 30 minutes off the trees in the empty lot down the street from work and brought them in to him the next day and he was thrilled and kept going on about how incredible I was and what a great gardener I must be and paid me $80 for 30 minutes worth of work in the weed lot.

We’re passing out the banners for Day 1 in Newark in front of the Investors Bank Tower at Edison and Mulberry! Donors can also pick up their banners, pins, and posters here anytime before 5:30PM.

It’s summer, so please imagine Mink and Clear in the following situations with me:

  • Mink and Clear picking mulberries.
  • Clear with purple-stained hands and mouth from picking and eating mulberries.
  • Mink with purple stains on his hands, but not his mouth, because he’s actually filling up his bag.
  • Two fresh pies cooling on the windowsill in the late afternoon.  Mink sitting in the shade with his shirt off, because the oven made the cabin really hot.
  • Mink making sure to call Clear outside as the sun is setting to get a good look at the fireflies. There are thousands of them, twinkling in the grass and in the trees, and Clear thinks it’s absolutely magical. 
  • “When I was young, my sister and I would catch fireflies and make wishes on them before letting them go.”  “Does that work?”  “Probably not, but it was fun.”
  • Clear catching a firefly and making a wish before letting it go.
  • “What did you wish for?” “To pick mulberries and make pie and watch the fireflies with you again.  I think that one will come true.”
  • The next day, they pick berries again.

2 January 2017

I went mulberry picking at my friend Kerrie’s house with My Girl and her Boy. Yes I have splatters around my mouth!

Winding up Day 2 of 2017 with a win. I ran 5.7km this morning, disrobed the Christmas tree (a marathon job), vacuumed up all the needles and debris, and went mulberry picking. Weight training is on my Monday program but the tree job replaced it. Luckily The Husb helped with dinner because I am exhausted! I have 12,000 FitBit steps at 8.00pm - that’s it - blobbing on the couch now in front of The Americans - a really good TV series about Russian spies.

“Women picking mulberry leaves, from the series Silkworm Culture: The Handiwork of Women, by Kitagawa Utamaro. Published by Tsuruya Kiemon, c. 1798-1800. " Text and images via Gina Collia-Suzuki. 

civilized-bedlam  asked:

Sophie floated idly next to the mulberry tree, carefully picking the ingredients she needed with expert fingers. Some of the fruits slipped into her mouth instead of the apothecary sack that hovered next to her, or were thrown into the air for Nereye to catch. She hummed quietly, shifting position occasionally to avoid depleting any particular branch.

Luce watched the girl as she plucked the fruits. She could tell the girl was Norse, by her clothes. She wasn’t exactly comfortable with the fact of not knowing or understanding what or who this girl was. And the creature with her made nothing better.