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“When I was a child, I used to raid an enormous stand of wild blackberry bushes behind a potting shed across the road from my Grandma, Nell. I could not eat enough of them.”

“The first time that I came in with my face painted with blackberry juice, she was horrified and thought I had poisoned myself. I ran out laughing, and brought her back some tied in a handkerchief.”

“She pulled a bucket from a metal cabinet on the side of her kitchen and instructed me to fill it up. From those berries, she whipped together this jam, along with a pie and syrup.”

– Jennifer, Nell’s Granddaughter & Ellie’s mother