Hunger for skills among bounty

It's that time of year again. I'm so glad I went out to look at the patch the other day -- the berries were big and heavy and sweet. Denise and I always comment on how everything is new to us each year. On the upside, this means that we don't suffer from boredom or burnout too often. The downside means that we go picking the first time without gloves or long sleeves or hair ties. The thorns rake into our arms, snag our clothes, and catch Denise by her long long hair. We laugh and say the same things every single year. I hear Denise muttering, "Come to mama," and I say, "I need a harvest hovercraft. Why can't I have elastic, expando-retracto arms?" In a half hour, the two of us had picked 18 cups of berries.

I went back briefly today, in between swim lessons and afternoon kung fu. This time I came armed. A new picking stick (seen above) was five minutes' work with some tools. I want to attach a leather thong with a slider onto the end. If the notch went both ways, I could push brambles as well as draw fruiting bunches to me. I brought gloves, and discovered that using only one glove works best for me. One hand grabs and wields the stick; one hand gently receives the ripe berries and drops them to the flat.

What did we do with those 18 cups of berries from the first outing? One bunch went into a batch of jam, as so many will before the summer is over. This jam was special, though.

Denise and I have decided to share our skill sets with the people around us. In our area, there appears to be an explosion of workshops led by folks with expertise in one thing or another: gardening with kids, slaughtering home livestock, jam making, tomato growing, beekeeping, etc. Partly to garner some income, partly to try this out as a future employment option, we decided to float a jam making workshop and see what would happen.

We have a full paid house for the upcoming Saturday workshop.

Since we've never done this before, a run-through with a sympathetic audience seemed appropriate. Fortunately, we have friends who have either not made jam or were just interested in seeing us in action. Eight of them gathered and they made a batch of wild blackberry and one of mixed plum,with our support.


My kitchen was a happy place, with lots of willing workers and a house full of children too. They gave us helpful feedback about our presentation, good suggestions for handouts, pricing, and pacing, and seemed genuinely happy about the day's activity. Two jars of jam each probably sweetened the deal!

We talked about how people long for the old skills to not be lost, and how they want connection to their food and their forebears. Demystifying preserves seemed to be a big key -- years of conditioning have made many people afraid of doing something "wrong," and caused the belief that "experts" are different from "people with experience."

I'm not complaining -- addressing these feelings might make a nice side income for me. I am a little saddened, though, that what my grandmother and at least one aunt did as a matter of course is now akin to the black arts for many people. (Not many readers of this blog, I think, though.) Sharing the unbelievable bounty of the food around me and sharing my skills makes me feel useful in a deep way, so that's what I get out of it. I hope the ripple effect keeps on going.

I also hope the folks on Saturday feel like they're getting their money's worth! If you have a skill that you take for granted, and you live in an area with people who are interested in it, and you like having people around, this kind of skills sharing might be something to consider.