Raspberry Raiders!

The perfect raspberry

Raspberries. Oh, don't you just love those sweet, juicy and flavoursome fruits? You just can't beat a freshly picked, homegrown raspberry, practicially bursting with dead bugs and yummy goodness. But, picking raspberries isn't a walk in the park. You are thrown against all nature's finest competitors, all armed and waiting to taste some perfect fruit.

I face fierce competition - my dog being the worst

An average raspberry picking day goes like this: I march outside, brandishing my Tupperware container. (I never actually manage to fill the pot, but it gives me a goal to aim for, when I am facing all my trials). The walk to the raspberry patch is perilous; slippy cobblestones slick with slimy moss, so I creep carefully, testing the ground with my wellington boots, to find a safe spot. Once I actually reach the patch, I select my raspberries, but I have to keep my wits about me, as if I search too low, I may pick a few marinaded in dog urine, but if I go too high, I find the raspberries are splattered in bird poo.  So, I usually go straight for the middle layer. I mean, wouldn't you? Unfortunately, all of nature has the same idea, so I have to dodge around half-pecked fruit or whole demolished branches. (by my dog, Jasper).

If left too long, a raspberry will drop to the ground,
 but if not left long enough, it will taste sour. 

 If I manage to get past my dog, the birds, and then all the insects, I usually head back, exhausted, and needing a rest, from all this stressful work. But, as always, next Monday, I am out again, picking raspberries. Any do you know why? Because our gardener works on Tuesdays. And he eats the raspberries too!