I know that she won’t remember this but when little Hazel, my granddaughter came to visit us in Crookhaven in West Cork at the end of this summer I took her by the hand and we went up the narrow little road that runs behind our house on a special mission.
I wanted to create a little memory, the start of an annual tradition that we could share, just the two of us.
On this peaceful little road we picked blackberries together and filled a little carton between us. In between the blackberry picking she was just as fascinated by the loose gravel on the road. She was carefully examining the different shapes and placing the more interesting ones in with the blackberries in the carton.
She is not quite two yet (that is in October), but she was clever enough to know the difference between the blackberries that were ripe enough to pick and those that should be left to ripen some more, and just like other children as many were consumed on the spot as were placed in the carton.
When I first heard that my granddaughter was born (we were sitting up front at a John Spillane gig at The White Horse Bar and Restaurant when the text came through), as well as being overjoyed I had these idyllic notions about seeing her every week and I would be an adored grandad !
However, with these busy lives that we all lead the get togethers have all been very hit and miss but I do think that this little tradition of picking blackberries might be the perfect thing for us to do together each year, or at least until she can remember them…
“Do you remember when we used to pick blackberries together in West Cork?” she might say to me some day….”I sure do“
After the blackberry picking, I picked up the carton with berries and gravel, and little Hazel with her face covered in purple juice took my hand and we strolled back to the house together.
We started a new tradition, but she hasn’t quite realised that yet!
Greg
Greg Canty Fuzion Blog 