It’s July, hot, humid, and it’s raspberry season here in New England. We’ve grown raspberries since we moved here in 2006, and we are experiencing a bumper crop this year.
We are picking two to three pints a day. We’ve put almost ten pounds in the freezer already. Raspberries in the freezer mean raspberry pie all winter long.
Our row of plants is only about 12′ long, but it continues to keep us in fresh raspberries year after year.
Raspberries produce runners. I replant them within the confines of the row or pot them up and offer them to friends or fellow gardeners.
We’ve tried blueberries, raspberries, strawberries, Concord grapes, and kiwi. Raspberries are by far the easiest to grow, and a big plus is that deer, birds, chipmunks, and squirrels leave them alone.
The hoops in the photo are holding up netting to cover four small low bush blueberries. The birds pick them clean if I don’t cover them.
I have a long history picking berries. When I spent my summers on my grandparents’ farm up north, my grandpa and I would go berry picking several times a summer for raspberries, blackberries, and blueberries.
He knew all the farmers and the fields we could pick in. I’d wear a long sleeve shirt and overalls with a metal pail tied around my waist with a piece of rope. Glamorous visual, huh? But, those are great memories not only for spending time with my grandparents but also for the great berry eating. Let’s face it, if you are asked to wade chest high into thorny berry bushes the least that can happen is that you pick two for the bucket and one for yourself. Let’s just say, I was never too hungry when we got home. 🙂