Day 331: I knew I should have gone blackberry picking two weeks ago. Two and a half hours and over a hundred driving miles later, this was all I had to show for my pains. My best spots had either been picked clean or were ruined by rain. Once I'd put them through the food mill, I had just over a cup of juice, a long way from the six cups I needed for a batch of jam. Blackberries...Himalayan or Evergreen...are the kudzu of the Pacific Northwest. What the heck is going on here?
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