Mulberry time in North Yorkshire

This post of mine from 9 years ago has just popped up on WordPress’s On this Day feature. I’ve just been scrumping my pre-breakfast mulberries, as I always do when they’re in season, so this seems an appropriate post to re-blog.

Autumn this year is definitely not in the air. The grass is not dewy, but hay-coloured and dry in the current drought. No moorhens are in residence. Miquel is no longer just the boyfriend, but Emily’s partner. She and their two children have just returned home to Spain after spending two weeks with us (hence no blogging from me). Tomorrow, I go too, to do the childminding while Emily and Miquel are at work, and while schools, nurseries and playschemes remain firmly shut for August. Miquel’s mum, the children’s iaia, will have been relishing the continuing break from duty.

The featured photo shows the mulberry tree as seen from the study window. And exhibits how very much the window needs a very good clean. It’s spider’s web season here.

‘Here we go making mulberry gin….’
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Author: margaret21

I'm retired and live in North Yorkshire, where I walk , write, volunteer and travel as often as I can.

38 thoughts on “Mulberry time in North Yorkshire”

  2. Sounds like a lovely memory. I’ve only ever known one mulberry tree and that was in Johannesburg. I made loads of pies but not alcohol. My eldest boy who was a toddler used to be stained purple!

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  3. Was it as successful as the sloe gin? I’m not naturally a gin drinker but I’m prepared to give it a go. In the interests of science. Have a great trip to Spain! Driving or train, and when are you back? xx

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  4. A useful post for my partner who harvests the mulberry tree in the allotment orchard. No one else seems interested. He made some scrumptious jam a few years ago but the crop’s too sparse this summer. Blackberries are doing well, though, snd we were very tempted to scrump some figs on our walk today. Enjoy Spain!

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    1. Thanks for reminding me to go and collect a kilo or more of blackberries from our local scrumping-station down the road. Nobody else seems interested. In fact, last year, a young mum with a toddler stopped, and with friendly curiosity, asked me what on earth I was doing … ‘And they’re safe to eat?’

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