When I pop a raspberry into my mouth I am instantly transported into the sunny backyard of my grandparent's home in Everett. My grandpa was a great gardener, there's no doubt that it's from him and my mom that this life in the dirt is so alluring to me. His backyard fence was lined with raspberry bushes on both sides, and picking them each summer was so much a part of our visits when we were young. Oftentimes it seemed my mom and grandma were in the kitchen cooking them up for jam just as fast as we could pick them.
When my grandparents moved from their home my uncle took a few of the plants to his house. For years I've dreamed of getting a few starts from him, and having a little bit of grandpa with me in the backyard. But year after year goes by and I've got nothing to show for it. So, this year while I trudged the kids up and down the aisles at Wights I flirted with the idea of just getting a few plants and see how they do. Kind of like babysitting before you have your own kid, a trial run before the real thing. I bought 3, well, 3 pots of dirt with dead sticks poking out from soil. The lady I spoke with about which variety to invest in assured me that soon we should see little leaves and by summer we'd have enough berries for jam! I relayed to her that it was because of my grandpa's berries that I was buying any at all and she pointed me to 'Meeker's' saying, "Then you probably want this one, an older variety; for the real raspberry lover." I am so so excited!
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