Saturday, 19 July 2008

A taste of childhood



Raspberries are plentiful this summer. For dessert, we go out in the garden and pick them direct from the bush. I have tended my raspberries carefully for many years and defended them literally with my own body from Staffan’s attacks with the lawnmower. Staffan does not want raspberries in the lawn. I think that raspberries are worth sacrificing a bit of lawn. I have won inch by inch every year, weeding minutely around every tiny plant.

Staffan says that raspberries remind him of his childhood. His granny had a large raspberry patch where he was allowed to indulge. Nowadays, there is a police station where his granny’s raspberry patch used to be.

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1 comment:

  1. Anonymous19 July 2008 at 16:49

    You forgot to mention that Grandmother Julia's garden was situated in that treasure of Sweden and Dalecarlia, Ludvika. Where, by incident, I was born.
    And the police station is not your ordinare precinct, it is A Huge Structure that makes you wonder: is crime that big in Ludvika (population 20 000).

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