Sunday, 6 October 2013

Mulberries

Untitled

Untitled

Mulberries

I like mulberries. One of my earliest memories is from when I was in Preschool when I was 4 years old. At the very right hand corner of the outdoor grass area, there was a mulberry tree. I remember there being a crowd of little kids, stuffing mulberries into their mouths. But the memory in mind is this: I picked up one mulberry and walked, what must have been at least 30m, to the bathroom inside the building to wash my mulberry and then ate it. One. Mulberry. It is one of my funnier stories that I have. At highschool, there was a mulberry tree although it got pruned constantly to avoid kids climbing up the tree and eventually it was cut down to a mere stump. On my way down the hill where I live, there is a mulberry tree and for the past month, the mulberries have been ripening and it has been my breakfast and my post-work snack as I return home. However, I remember an old highschool friend mentioning that she had a mulberry tree relatively close to her home and so alas, I have been there twice in the past week to harvest some mulberries. I walked 20 minutes one way and returned with around 300 grams of mulberries. Right now they are de-stemmed and in the freezer as I am not sure what I want to do with them.

Stained Fingers

Mulberries also stain your hands like no tomorrow.

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