When I lived at my parent's house in Burnaby, my sister and I would go out at the end of the summer and pick blackberries in the lane by our house. Now that I'm out in Abbotsford, there is no sister, but there are certainly blackberries in the lane by my house. I am confident that, as long as I live in the GVRD, there will be blackberries in a lane by my house.
Summer fruit being delicious but expensive, and blackberries being yummy and free, and me being Mennonite and all, I went out today, bucket in hand, to pick me some free tasties. Somehow, I've developed a 'further up and further in' philosophy, by which I figure the further I go into the brambles, the better the berries will be. And while it's probably true that if I go a foot deeper in, there will be fat and delicious berries, there will also be fat and delicious berries if I go one foot to my left, and I won't get sliced up in the doing. I know this. But old habits die hard, and every few minutes I would find myself up to my eyeballs in long, thorny branches.
So now I've got a bagful of berries in the freezer, and a pan full of scones in the oven, and a body that looks like someone was throwing kittens at it, naked.