Air

Erin Culhane
Opinions Editor

Five days, two kids, 6934 kilometres, seven
take-offs and landings, eight hours of car trav-
el. Yeah, that pretty much sums up my sum-
mer vacation.

This short and sweet (okay, maybe sour)
journey was our first by plane in over two
years. To say things have changed in the way
we “do” air travel is a blatant understatement.
There are certain things you don't joke about
anymore. There are certain things you just
don’t say anymore. Words that start with “G”
“K” and “B” are among them. But children, in
their sweet innocence are oblivious to these
new tules of air travel conduct.

Everything went smoothly at Vancouver
International. The WestJet representative
asked me a few questions that I hadn't been
asked before: “Did you pack your bags?”
“Have you left your bags unattended?” The
rep at the counter beside me was trying to
decide if she should let a traveller on board
with baby nail clippers. “Hmm, well they

Suburb

Blackberrying

Dawn- Louise McLeod
OP Columnist

As the fall semester begins my goals are sim-
ple—forget the furor of back-to-school fever
and the inevitability of assignment comple-
tion/GPA maintenance—I’m interested only
if it’s ripe, juicy and dangling. Yeah, I’m talk-
ing about the genus Rubus, otherwise known
as blackberries.

Right now, I spend my spare time getting
blackberries off the bushes and into my freez-
er (and into my blender). My “to do” list:

Pick at least 10 plastic ice cream buckets full
of berries for deep freeze storage.

Make a couple of dozen jars of jam and
syrup.

Juice enough berries to start a vat of wine.

Bake a few pies and crisps for immediate
consumption.

The thrill of achievement is tempered some-
what by the consequences of the frenzied pick-
ing pace required, not the least of which is the

© page 6

don’t have the little nail file that sticks out...”
Things are pretty tight, to say the least.
(Although it got me to thinking, maybe they
should ban ridiculously long artificial nails.
Some of those suckers can be as sharp as a
*K).

While going through security the'personnel
wanted to confirm that my cellphone would
turn on and was in fact a cellphone and not a
“B.” The kids remained pretty quiet through-
out all this, likely because it was 6 a.m. and
they'd been up since 4:30.

Coming home was a different story. Security
was substantially tighter at the little airport in
Sault Ste. Marie. When I say “little” I mean
that like Spuzzum is to China, the Sault air-
port is to YVR.

So the kids and I got pegged for a random
thorough-search. After walking through the
metal detector (the thing that looks like a
door frame) without setting it off, I was asked
by the female security person if she could

   

demise of my french manicure. Berrying
results in stained and broken fingernails and
thorn-lacerated flesh. And processing berries
means splats of dark purple all over clothes,
the kitchen—heck, the entire house.

But it’s worth it. Blackberries retail in local
stores for the outrageous price of $2.99 a pint.
With proper gear and a good berry zone, in
about an hour you can collect a bucket full.
No wonder blackberrying appeals to those
who revel in free food and are instinctive gath-
erers and gleaners—that’s right, scroungers.

Blackberries are everywhere for the taking
and are very high in vitamin A, potassium,
folate, calcium, and vitamin C. Besides, life in
the suburbs is so dull that on any given day
from mid August to early September you can
spot people marauding suspiciously in bushes,
carrying plastic ice cream buckets and armed
with gardening implements.

Post-

search me.

I received the invasive beeping stick treat-
ment. I was wearing a long skirt with no
pockets and a T-shirt—it creeps me to think
of where she thought I might have been hid-
ing something.

They also searched the kids’ carry-ons with
an electronic gadget, which was attached to a
monitor. The guy was carefully weaving his
gadget in and out of trail mix and markers,
over and under HotWheels and Travel
Monopoly. I stood waiting patiently, but the
kids were like, “Mom, why are they looking at
our stuff?” I explained that the people in
charge of security pick bags to look through
every so often.

My son persisted, “Well, what are they look-
ing for?”

“Things that aren’t safe to bring on the
plane,” I said.

“Oh, like a gun,” he said.

Oh dear. I was tongue-tied.

an. Graffiti

Of all wild berries, blackberries are the most
prolific. Their brambles are rampant on any
unclaimed or neglected patch of land—a
vacant lot, creekside, schoolyard. (Probably
the thorn hedge surrounding Sleeping Beauty's
palace was nothing more than a bunch of
blackberry bushes.) There are actually several
types of blackberries in the Pacific Northwest,
the most common of which is the Himalayan
blackberry.

However, only one type, the Trailing black-
berry, is indigenous. Its berries are smaller but
tastier. The Coast Salish ate these berries fresh,
and dried them for winter use, but also used
the leaves and roots to alleviate numerous dis-
orders. And blackberries were essential to
purification rituals prior to spirit dancing—
the purifiee’s body was scrubbed with black-
berry brambles. I'll bet there were a lot of peo-
ple who never learned to dance.

Blackberries are great for jams and jellies,
adding to baked goods, and making flavoured
vinegars, salad dressings, wine, and even
cough syrup. My favourite recipe, however, is
for blackberry slushies—a blended treat with
sugar and copious amounts of vodka or rum.
Perfect for consumption around the firepit in
the backyard.

Proper gear for picking? Wear a work glove
or a pair of fingerless gloves, a shirt with long
sleeves that won't ride up, pants, shoes, and a
hat. Carry baby wipes in your backpack or car
for cleanup. Bring plastic buckets (ice cream
buckets are the right size and have handles and
lids), clippers, a rake, and a ladder or stepstool,
and you can duke it out with hornets, spiders,
mosquitoes, ticks, and rival berryers.

“Or a bomb,” he said.

Oh shit. “Please don’t say that, Tarin,” I said,
willing his taboo words to cease.

The gadget-holding dude ignored his com-
ments, and the guy collecting boarding passes
looked over at me and smiled an understand-
ing “kids will be kids” smile. Phew. We made
it on the plane without further incident.

If I had to sum up the atmosphere in the
world of air travel, I'd say it’s “careful.” And as
travellers we have a responsibility to mind the
new, perhaps unwritten rules of sky trekking.
As for the kids, they're five and seven years
old—why should I quash their innocence by
explaining the inappropriateness of their com-
ments?

One year ago, a bunch of assholes changed
things, not the least of which is the way we
feel about getting on a plane. But I choose not
to let them change the way my kids feel.
Next time I'll just be better prepared for their
questions.

Personally, I never bother with all that gear,
so usually after picking I’m bleeding, covered
in blackberry gore, and look like I've been
though a war zone episode of Barney and
friends—or a Coast Salish purification ritual.

A few evenings ago, however, I discovered
competitive blackberrying and learned a few
tricks. A couple of novice pickers and I set out
in search of the mother lode—brambles
loaded with ripe fruit for slushies. Terrified of
spiders and of getting scratched, my friends
were clothed from head to toe and carried
enough equipment to perform a major home
renovation. It wasn’t long, though, before I
stopped laughing and started using their clip-
pers and a glove to reach under branches for
the plentiful berries beneath. My friends fol-
lowed me around until I managed to elude
them for some solitary non-stop picking, dur-
ing which I ignored their calls. It was like
being a kid again.

“Ah hah, she’s too quiet!” I heard them say.
“Mustve found a mother lode!” Indeed, I had
hacked my way into a magnificent patch of
plump berries. I was concealed under several
layers of brambles, picking as fast as possible
before my friends could reach me. Then I
made the mistake of standing up. Let me tell
you, don’t ever blackberry pick while wearing
a halter-top.

Why not try blackberrying with your
friends and see whos the first to fill a bucket?
Loser supplies the vodka for the slushies.

Comments and favourite blackberry recipes
to:
iconoclastcom@yahoo.ca