|On Monday, 9-12, we got up to go to Port Townsend. However, it was cloudy
and rainy all morning, so we decided to postpone our visit. It cleared up by the
afternoon, so we decided to go pick blackberries. They are everywhere! We
just stopped at the side of the road and started picking. HOWEVER... Picking
blackberries is no where near as fun as picking huckleberries. See,
huckleberries don't have thorns, they don't grow higher than two or three feet tall,
they don't prick you, attack you, cling to you, hold you in the briar patch so the
more you struggle the more you're stuck. Huckleberries don't snag your jeans or
turn you purple. Blackberries don't even taste as good as huckleberries. Okay,
well they taste as good, but they get those little seeds in your teeth. However,
they are free and growing everywhere, so how could we not pick them?
On Tuesday, 9-13, the sun was out, so we headed down to Port Townsend. We
had a lot of fun riding the motorcycle through all the scenery. We took Hwy 20
down through Deception Pass and down Whidby Island to Keystone where we
took the ferry to Port Townsend.
|Of course, the big reason we had rushed down to Port Townsend was to see what
was left of the wooden boat festival. Not much it seemed, but we did find the huge
marina and walked around nodding at the sailboats, so Richard was happy.
|Then we walked around the quaint downtown area. I found a cute little country
store and bought some cute little canning jars, then we headed home.
On Wednesday, 9-14, I got up early and made blackberry jam. Yum!! My
kitchen turned blue, but yum! Seriously, making jam from extremely ripe
blackberries in a kitchen smaller than most linen closets creates quite a mess.
After bleaching the counters, walls and floor, we got the kitchen back to it's
original, non-blue color.
On Thursday, 9-15, we could still see ripe blackberries on the damn thorny vines,
right in the RV park, and couldn't stand it, so we went out picking again. I made
a pie, and canned two jars of pie filling, and put some in the freezer. Then we
bleached the kitchen again. No more blackberry picking!
Friday, 9-16, we got up and did laundry (lots of spray-n-wash on all the purple
spots on all our clothes!) It rained all morning, and we went to the beach and
took pictures of the boats with the tide out. Normally they are moored and
floating, but every morning they just sit there, waiting for the water to return. The
sun came out in the afternoon, so we went into town to a quilt show.
|Saturday, 9-17, those damn blackberries were calling to us again. They tower over
us and look so ripe and we just loose our heads.
you to keep
|Don't they look
could we resist?
|We had already made jam and pie, and the blackberries had obviously gone to
our heads because we decided we had too much room in this tiny RV and too
much money (right, with these gas prices?) so we went out and bought a 13 gallon
primary fermenter, a 5 gallon glass secondary fermenter, and a bunch of other
supplies. Then, even though the purple color under my fingernails was finally
starting to fade, and all the small cuts on the backs of my hands were healing, we
went out and picked about 4 gallons of berries to make up some wine. After
cleaning up the blue kitchen for the third time, we have vowed, once again, to let
the rest of the berries stay on their horrible thorny vines. We'll see...
|Sunday, 9-18, we woke up to the smell of blackberries and yeast. The sun was
out so we decided to go walk on the "tidal flats" which is what Richard has been
calling the sand where water should be. I don't think we've had those boots on
since we went turtle hunting on South Padre Island.
|On our way out we couldn't help but step on millions of tiny snails.
They were everywhere.
|We walked out much farther past the boats we had seen the other day, see them
in the background? We're about 300 yards out from what's normally the shore.
|We returned to the RV, and narrowly avoided the blackberry temptation. Only 6
more days in the park, I'm not sure we can escape the picking temptation,
although my purple, torn up hands are going to help me remember.