Sometimes when you think you’re in the worst of times, youare actually in the best of times. These are the kind of worst of times whenyou’re pulled in multiple directions and you’re racing from one place to theother, too much to do and no time to get to doing what you think you want todo, nothing drastic, nothing earthshattering, nothing really worst about it, justmomentary busyness that, looking back, is fleeting, and was actually the bestof times.

In my FB memories this morning I was reminded of one suchtime fifteen years ago. Neither my father-in-law, John, nor my mother, were anylonger able berry-pickers. For solid ground berries, like blueberries, theywould have gotten by, but for bakeapple picking wandering the marshes, it isnot a task for the less than able-bodied. I picked some last year and when Igot to the road, if somebody had to offer me a million dollars for the few inmy bucket, I think I would have said it’s not enough. Well, I would have tookit then, but you get the idea. At least if you ever picked bakeapples, you’dget the idea. I digress.

Some friends had come along who’d never picked the goldenberries before, so they were first-timers and didn’t know what to expect. Mymother, and John, both had this faraway look in their eyes of their heydays of yearlyberry picking. Neither asked nor said anything as we had a mug up in St. Bride’sbefore we got our bags, a little lunch, our buckets, and readied to head out.

I couldn’t not take them. I asked John if he’d like to go.He allowed he would. Then Mom, she said she’d love to go. So, of course, theyboth were in my car with their buckets soon after and we were making our way tothe marshes.

It is very squishy and suctiony on the marshes as you movearound looking for the berries. There are bees and stouts swarming you andpitching and biting- I mention this because I hate them.

As we scrambled down the embankment, John pointed to a risein the marsh in the distance and say he was going there. He’d gotten berriesthere before, and off he went. Mom was on oxygen and couldn’t lift her legs toowell, so she stayed closer to the road. Luckily there was a spot and she couldmanage. The new-comers were not roaming pickers, like John, so they picked asthey went and hung close to the marsh near the road. The berries weren’tplenty, plenty, but plenty enough when you didn’t know the difference like us roamingpickers who forever chase the next golden marsh. Yes, I’m a roaming picker likeJohn.

As the wind moaned (because on the marshes it moans andgroans and whistles) John would wave and shout for me. I’d go over to him, he’dtell me a story about how many bakeapples he picked in his lifetime and that hewas going to try over a bit farther. Mom would shout out that she was stuck soI’d leave him and work my way back to her. Once she actually fell and we had topull her up. She was not hurt. She laughed, we laughed, and then John shouted forme again.

So, I spent the bakeapple picking time going from John to Momand the distance grew exponentially each time I crossed the marsh. Did Imention the suction and how high you have to lift your knees. One does notsimply walk on the marsh. Did I mention the bees.

By the time we finished, John had several cups in hisbucket, Mom had several in hers, the Lewis’ had a wonderful time picking andhad lots for their first experience. I got a handful of berries because I spentthe time going back and forth.

In the end, my momentary worst of times (notreally, but you get the drift) turned into a good day. As hindsight would reveal,it was the best of times. It would be the last time picking bakeapples for Johnand Mom. It was a privilege to experience that. When we went back to the Young’sfor tea, you wouldn’t wipe the happy grin of either of them. They were exhaustedbut happy. This time of the year—bakeapple time, I always think of them on themarsh. I see John beckoning me. I hear Mom shouting that she needed to move buther rubber boot was still in the bog. These kind of worst of times are alwaysremarkable and make the best memories. I’m so happy to have been there withthem on their last great bakeapple pick.