The first is a Gooseberry! My mother-in-law, Leone Mercer had a Gooseberry patch in her back yard on Heisler Street. When Bret and Shelly were wee little tykes I took them over there and they wandered out back and found the Gooseberry patch. When I happened upon them they were actually eating them. I had never encountered a Gooseberry, so I picked one and popped it in my mouth. OMG! Those things were beyond sour. I could feel the bottom of my brain stem rebelling! Leone assured me that "made into a pie it is the best thing you will ever eat." Some how, deep in my soul, I rather doubted that.
Regress back to 709 North Strong Street in Nickerson and an eight year old version of myself exploring my new home. We had moved there from the Ailmore place and since dad was buying this house we were now homeowners. Facing the house from the street on my right (which I learned later was the North side of the house) was a Walking Stick Cactus which would be a source of much pain. Going on to the back fence was a row of elm trees, followed by a Mulberry Tree, more elm trees, and then a long row of Currant bushes. Mother assured us that they were good to eat when they were ripe.
I spent many hours climbing the Mulberry tree and searching for a ripe one to eat because Mulberry is a very good treat as long as they are ripe. The ones on the top ripen first and it is just a few days until the ones on top began to fall to the ground. Now Mulberries are a deep purple when ripe and since we went barefooted all summer, my feet were also purple on the bottom. If that was not enough to deter me, the news that Mother told Dad did give me pause.
"Ruben, those Mulberry have worms in them. You have got to keep the kids out of them." Well, I could not see the worms, so I just figured she was seeing things and continued my feast. The mere fact that I am still here seventy years later makes me think she was either wrong, or they were damn little worms and did not hurt anything!
Ah, but the currants! The currant bushes were in a row and the row was probably forty feet long. Early in the spring little yellow flowers covered the bushes and we soon learned that little green berries about a quarter inch in diameter would appear. Of course I never was the patient type, so I picked one and ate it. I guess I should say, I attempted to eat it! My God those things were bitter! I think I have a permanent pucker from those things. The sad part is that as they ripened a little they got less bitter and as soon as they got fat and ripe, the birds swept in and harvested them! As I recall, they were rather opaque when they were almost ready and then turned black when fully ripe, right before the Sparrows came in and ate them all!
There was a Peach tree that hung over the chicken house and I never was fast enough to get one of those either! I did get one that was almost thinking about maybe getting ripe. It was hard and not sweet at all and mother was right, it did give me a belly ache.
And the Catalpa tree had beautiful white flowers and when the flowers dried up, a long bean came on and hung down. Jake and I figured out that if we let the bean dry, we could light it up and smoke it. Sadly I did not blow out the fire on the end of it when I took my big drag and sucked the burning fire into my mouth!
I often wonder how I survived to adulthood! But I did. And the saddest part of all of this is that I look back on my childhood days as happy ones! My idea of heaven is to go back to that little 2 bedroom shack on Strong Street, shinny up the Catalpa tree, watch a chicken lay an egg, and fly my kite over the cemetery with my brother.
Life was sure simple back then.
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