The Adventures of Mulberry Picking

The Adventures of Mulberry Picking

When I moved to Washington, I had this beautiful picture in my mind of slowing down.

I dreamed of opening a little shop where people could come to breathe for a while, enjoy a cup of tea, and remember that life doesn't always have to be rushed.

Apparently, no one warned the local wildlife.

The adventures in mulberry picking began when I noticed a couple of mulberry trees on our property. I immediately remembered picking blackberries with my sister when we were kids. I thought, How wonderful! I'll spend a quiet afternoon gathering berries.

Simple, right?

Well...not exactly.

First, I should probably mention that I am highly allergic to bees, wasps, hornets, and yellow jackets.

Unfortunately, they also happen to be huge fans of mulberries.

Every time I reached for a handful of berries, it seemed one of those little winged troublemakers had already claimed the branch. I'm convinced they had formed a neighborhood watch specifically to keep me away from "their" tree.

Three days later...

Yes, three days...

I had finally collected the four cups of mulberries needed for one small batch of jam.

Now, let me also confess something.

I have never made mulberry jam.

Actually...

I've never made any jam.

For reasons I still can't explain, I apparently woke up that morning believing I was Martha Stewart or Rachael Ray. I carefully followed the recipe, measured every ingredient, stirred with confidence, and proudly filled my little jar.

I stepped back and admired my accomplishment.

Until...

I tried to use it.

The jam refused to leave the spoon.

I turned the jar upside down just to see what would happen.

Nothing.

Thirty minutes later...

Still nothing.

Friends, I don't think I made jam.

I think I accidentally invented a new industrial-strength adhesive.

If anyone ever needs to glue two pieces of wood together permanently, I may have the recipe.

Thankfully, after a little research (and a good laugh), I discovered that I had simply cooked it a bit too long. My next batch will undoubtedly be much better.

But as I stood there laughing at myself, I realized something.

The best part of this adventure was never really about the jam.

It was the three afternoons spent outside beneath the trees.

It was hearing the birds, watching the breeze move through the branches, and remembering what it felt like to do something simply because it brought joy.

Those moments are becoming harder to find in a world that constantly asks us to hurry.

Maybe that's one of the reasons I started The Autumn Hollow.

Not to be perfect.

Not to have every recipe come out right.

And certainly not because I have mastered homemade jam.

But because I believe there is something deeply valuable in slowing down long enough to gather berries, brew a cup of tea, light a candle, and laugh at ourselves when things don't quite go according to plan.

Sometimes the sweetest memories don't come from getting everything right.

Sometimes they come from almost inventing super glue.

Until next time...

Stay cozy,

Lisa
The Autumn Hollow
Where the kettle is always on.