It's July, which means it's raspberry season in my new part of the world: Whatcom County, Washington, the largest producer of raspberries in the United States of America. The political scene has gotten so bad in this country, and I've been so mortified by it - it's cringe-inducing, really - but the other day my husband and I went out to Boxx Berry Farm and picked 22 pounds of raspberries. I made 21 pints of jam and gave about 5 pounds of fresh raspberries to my mom and my sister. Gave some pints of jam to my brother and my new neighbors. Oh, Whatcom County, I love you!! 60 % of all the nation's raspberries - now there is something I feel I can brag about! Raspberries, raspberries, glorious raspberries. Raspberry jam on toast - heaven! Raspberries, my favorite berry. But next come the blueberries, which are also quite nice. Here is a little teeny poem in celebration.
July
It's July
and I
made jam
jam jam
jam jam
and I am
so very
berry happy.
Silly poem, but you know, I'm feeling silly. Maybe sunshine is doing it to me. August is coming. Blueberries, then corn after that.
Here is an even teenier poem:
Yummers.
I love summers!
Hope you are all feeling good, filled up with pretty sunsets. Linda is hosting this week's Poetry Friday over at A Word Edgewise. Head over there to see if anyone else is feeling as silly as I am.