One of the reasons I love my neighborhood is because I have such great neighbors! A day or two ago I talked to one of them as he was walking on his way to pick mulberries from a tree close by. I told him how I used to do that barefooted when I was little, and how stained the bottom of my feet would be when I finished. I was preschool age then, so, too short to reach the branches and too young to climb a ladder. The tree belonged to a neighbor who would shake the mulberries onto a tarp and my older brother and younger sister and I would alternate between placing them in our containers and our mouths.
A few minutes ago my doorbell rang and there stood Wes with warm mulberry cobbler straight from the oven.