Eating Mulberries

One of my best summer memories is of eating mulberries. There was a mulberry tree in the yard one of the houses where lived when I was in grade school. I can't remember now who first told me what kind of tree it was or that the fruit was good to eat. Perhaps it is just one of those things that a child knows. In any case I remember that my brothers and I would climb up into the branches of the tree and plan adventures while we ate mulberries. Sometimes I climbed the tree alone. I always climbed as high as I could because the best and the sweetest fruit is always at the top of the tree. Then I sat on the branch I had chosen while leaning back against the trunk of the tree. I remember the fresh, sweet, and tart flavor of the fruit as it burst in my mouth and the sway of the branches as the tree moved in the breeze. I was mesmerized by the sound of the wind and the play of the light and green shadows dancing against my skin. When I came down my hands and face were always stained with the black juice of the berry. At the end of the day my brothers and I jumped down from the tree when we saw our father's car turn into the driveway. The first thing he said when he saw us was "I told you not to eat those berries, you'll get worms! Mulberries are for birds, not people." I guess we never really believed him because we kept eating the berries.

There is a mulberry tree growing outside my apartment. The pavement of the parking lot is covered with the pulp of smashed berries. It is a different variety than the one from my childhood and at first that kept me from identifying it correctly. The fruit is a greenish white in color indicating that it is an Asian mulberry instead of a black mulberry but the fruit is just as sweet as I remember. The branches are too high for me to reach easily and too thin to support my adult weight. I can only reach the berries hanging from the lowest boughs. I horrified my neighbors today by carrying my step ladder out so that I could reach more berries. They warned me that I would get worms if I ate those berries and they are now convinced that I am crazy. It was worth it though; they were delicious!

RW

Canoe and Kayak

Classes start tomorrow and I am totally ready, got my books and everything. Now if I was being truly studious, I would already be starting on the reading that I know will be assigned tomorrow. I would just walk into class ready to totally blow those professors away. But instead, I am reading my latest issue of Kayak porn.

Yes, you read that right. I said kayak porn. How else can I describe this lust I feel as I look at the beautiful, svelte shapes and colors on the glossy pages? The wood strip kayaks are beyond beautiful. They are aesthetically appealing and cry out to my artistic side. Suddenly that is me pictured in the ad gently stroking across a placid lake with mountains reflected in the water before me, adventure calling my name. Then there are the fishing kayaks (I want one and I want a rod and reel!), the touring kayaks (I swear it really wouldn’t take me long to put together a pack and explain to my professors that I am going to be a couple of months late for class this semester), ocean going kayaks, and white water kayaks not to mention all the crossover kayaks! Oh the torture of it all!

My own kayak is a small blue sit on top model made by pelican. It is not sexy but it is mine and it does have some very fine points. For one thing it has proven to be nearly indestructible to this very balance challenged individual. What it lacks in speed is made up for by its easy maneuverability. And last but not least, it is light enough that I can load it up myself when I am in the mood for a day out on the water.

I have learned two things from my reading and paddling experience. The first is that size does matter. The longer more gracefully shaped kayaks tend to go faster with less stress. Secondly, although I have never actually owned a sit in kayak, I think it is more fun on top. So grab a paddle and come join me when the weather warms up.

RW

Fisherman's Castle, aka Irish Bayou Castle

One thing I did this semester was to go visit the castle. I had been driving past it for years on my way to New Orleans. I noticed after Katrina that it seemed to sit a little crooked on it's foundation. For the first time it occurred to me that someone might tear it down before I had really seen it or found out what it was all about. So one afternoon, following a rather disappointing day in the academic arena, I took out for parts unknown. Those part ended up being Fisherman's Castle.

I didn't exactly know where I was going but followed the road and ended up in a little fishing community called Irish Bayou. They are very close knit and look out for one another since Katrina. So when I cruised by the castle and then came back and parked, people took notice. I was unsure if anyone was at home. It didn't look like it and I wanted to ask permission before I took any pictures. Finally I got out and approached the front door. As I walked across the yard, I noticed a woman approaching. She was pushing a baby carriage and her dogs were with her. She had her cell phone at the ready. She turned out to be the neighborhood watch. Once I had introduced myself and she found out why I was there she was very friendly. It turns out that the castle has been burgled several times since Katrina. She told me the history of it and walked with me as I took my pictures. As I walked she informed me that the castle has been written up many times and many people have blogged it. So after my visit I was able to double check my facts.

The castle was built in 1981 by Simon Villemarette. He originally planned for it to be a secondary tourist attraction for the 1984 World fair in New Orleans. The castle is far from the center of town however and the plans to get tour buses and boats to stop by fell through. Since then it has had several owners. It is now owned by a couple from Virginia who plan to make it into a bed and breakfast eventually.

The castle suffered some damage during Katrina and sits a little crookedly on it's foundation as a result. It was the only building that did survive in Irish Bayou. My new friend pointed out the foundations sitting next to the castle and then she pointed out a house sitting in the bayou. She told me that the water just picked it up and dropped it down there. According to her, there are still magazines and a coffee cup on the table by the sofa should I care to go look. I didn't although she would have willingly taken me out in her boat. I didn't take her up on her offer.

I don't know about you but I think that this looks like a pretty cool place to live.

RW