Blackberry Winter
In the South, we have some sayings that don’t make much sense especially one, “Blackberry Winter.” Blackberry winter happens about now, usually around Easter.
If you read about Blackberry Winter on the internet it has a lot to do with when the blackberry bushes are in bloom and they are right now. And it is when we get a cold snap which we have also had lately, low 40s at night and some days not even getting above 60 degrees during the day. If you watched the Masters this year, the golfers and spectators looked really cold standing in that cold wind.
People used to buy a new Spring outfit about now to wear to church on Easter Sunday and to wear for a special meal that always had deviled eggs. Many Easter Sundays and Easter Egg Hunts we had to don our winter coats because Blackberry Winter had decided to arrive.
If you are out and about this weekend, wander down some paths or even in your backyard and most likely you will see the blackberry bushes covered in little white flowers that soon will become blackberries. They are all over the place. Take note of their locations to visit later when the berries are a deep purple. That is if you can beat the birds who are one step ahead of you.
Birds love berries. The ones that frequent our area are ferocious. They plot and plan in the tree tops waiting for the berries to get ripe. Not even netting will prevent them from swooping down and grabbing a berry in their beak and flying off. These birds also love blueberries and raspberries. I guess our yard is a mecca for hungry birds.
My grandmother always arranged a blackberry picking party for me. We covered every inch of our bodies in clothing and a bonnet, then grabbed a small bucket and headed out on the mission to pick blackberries. After our buckets were full we headed back to the house to enjoy blackberries still warm from the sun, covering them in some sweet milk and sugar. Yum!
After the snack we had to bathe in some foul smelling water to rid us of chiggers and heal our arms and hands that had scratches from the blackberry bush limbs covered in sharp thorns.
Our greatest rewards for picking the blackberries was to sit down and eat a big piece of warm blackberry cobbler, or to cover a hot biscuit with blackberry jelly or jam. My grandmother’s pantry would always have jars of blackberries to be used in the winter for a special surprise.
We lost a unique person this week, George Jobe. He was a native of Corinth, Miss., served in the military using his benefits to get college degrees. His family, wife Betty, daughters Melanie, Deborah, and Teresa, and son, Gregg, all moved here.
They were a tight unit. George loved to sing and most Friday and Saturday nights he found somewhere to sing karaoke along with one or two of his kids.
Surely now he is belting out “When the Roll Is Called up Yonder, I’ll be there.”