tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2018402196949735412.post1627483533491783241..comments2023-10-23T12:18:13.201-07:00Comments on Sicilian Sisters Grow Some Food: Berry, Berry GoodStefaneenerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08422241601075022500noreply@blogger.comBlogger8125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2018402196949735412.post-17795910320462421232008-06-29T09:06:00.000-07:002008-06-29T09:06:00.000-07:00I edited the link in the last post, and it's S...I edited the link in the last post, and it's Swanton Berry Farm.<br><br>Good luck picking -- they're very good this year.Stefaneenerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08422241601075022500noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2018402196949735412.post-71324868691964293722008-06-28T21:06:00.000-07:002008-06-28T21:06:00.000-07:00I just adore your blog. I love reading the storie...I just adore your blog. I love reading the stories of your family. You make me strive to be a better mother, and I mean that very sincerely. I would really love to find a good berry picking place to take my 9 year old son to and I tried clicking on the link you left in your previous post but it won't 'link'. Would you mind posting it again?Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2018402196949735412.post-88639324479465550792008-06-28T03:05:00.000-07:002008-06-28T03:05:00.000-07:00Your photos tell such a happy story. What a wonder...Your photos tell such a happy story. What a wonderful day.amanda jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05756583770137000946noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2018402196949735412.post-19493914652951694572008-06-27T19:20:00.000-07:002008-06-27T19:20:00.000-07:00That was just a bang-up bit of writing, so filled ...That was just a bang-up bit of writing, so filled with images and meaning and depth. Sweet as the berries.<br><br>It's funny, this is one of the very few family outings my children now insist we do each summer. It must be done. We've added a very grown-up and expensive lunch at Duarte's, one of the priveleges of parenting just big kids, and a stint at the dog beach up from the lighthouse. But it's really all about the berries.suzeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08956210633986974375noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2018402196949735412.post-8646869387516044162008-06-27T08:27:00.000-07:002008-06-27T08:27:00.000-07:00Wow, Stefani, your thoughts run right along with m...Wow, Stefani, your thoughts run right along with mine.<br><br>Our family has been picking berries there for 17 or 18 years. We started when Morganne was a toddler, and have gone every year since except last year. So, as I was walking the rows with our current homeschooling group, I saw a bunch of images, click-click-click-click, of all the people over all the years we've picked berries with.<br><br>There were toddlers in our group, so I was able to remember each of my kids as toddlers, walking around with purple hands and purple mouths. There was a quiet 8-year-old, a kid who hardly ever says a word. He picked next to me for a while, keeping up a steady stream of chat. This reminded me of all the times Malcolm would open up to an adult picking berries in a way he doesn't do in ordinary social gatherings. There's something about the process that draws out the quiet kids.<br><br>So, for us, too, it's a family tradition. More than that, though, we've become attached to having berry cobblers during the coldest part of the winter. My kids all started hating them (except Alex, who also picked with us during the early years), but the cobblers have become an important part of our winter traditions.<br><br>So there it is: a tradition through the years and around the year, something that keeps us anchored in time and free from it.<br><br>And it was great to see you all, even for a few minutes in the parking lot.Heather Madronehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14822864657970530172noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2018402196949735412.post-21151237904218053602008-06-27T06:31:00.000-07:002008-06-27T06:31:00.000-07:00Some of my best memories from childhood are things...Some of my best memories from childhood are things my parents dragged us to do over and over again. My dad and I planted a garden every year, and I have only good memories of that, although I'm told I used to complain every single year when it was time to plant, and also at tomato harvest time because although I liked GROWING tomatoes, I did not like EATING tomatoes. Berry picking is a ritual the Things will always, always remember.allisonmariecathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00211696859124273031noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2018402196949735412.post-67057483564432351822008-06-27T04:34:00.000-07:002008-06-27T04:34:00.000-07:00I think you did just fine capturing the day in wor...I think you did just fine capturing the day in words and pictures. It sounds like a lovely ritual.turtlegirl76http://www.blogger.com/profile/04224031164435800839noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2018402196949735412.post-76640618451571906522008-06-27T04:29:00.000-07:002008-06-27T04:29:00.000-07:00oh, our lucky day, three beautiful stefotos in one...oh, our lucky day, three beautiful stefotos in one post. Your berry day sounds wonderful.Pancake Goddesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09085244038393986135noreply@blogger.com