Berry, Berry, Quite Contrary

Anyone who knows me knows that I don't garden. Growing things is not my strong point. I used to try growing basil plants on my window sill, but if I left the window open, I would come home to find it outside on the ground, having jumped as it felt that suicide was better than being left in my care (or possibly because it knew its fate was to meet my hand blender and become pesto).

So, while most people would think that gaining a garden was the upside of ending 13 years of continuous flat dwelling by moving to (a very small) house, I saw this as a total and unnecessary chore in my life. So, I fork out a pile of money every month to a professional to make it look tidy (I know when I am out of my depth).

The only things that grow in my garden (aside from weeds) are the willow-type tree that tries to take over everything, and wild raspberries. The first summer I lived here, just before I got sick, I got all of two berries from the bush. The last two summers, that bush has practically vomited berries (albeit, a month late this year). I've hardly been able to keep up with picking them.

About the fifth bowlful in a fortnight

Now you are probably thinking, 'Raspberries? Awesome!' I normally would too, but high fibre berries don't agree with my Crohnie tummy, no matter how awesome they taste. Sigh. And as much as I know that I probably could have done something like cook them down to make sorbet, I haven't really had the time or motivation. Thankfully, friends have been very happy to help me with this little 'problem'. It's just a shame that the only thing useful this garden grows is something I can't eat. #crohnsproblems