Berry, berry good

Can't resist mentioning one of the last pleasures of summer: the blackberries growing, prodigiously this year, throughout urban Seattle. Eliot and I picked bucketsful from the bush on our block, though she ate every one that landed in her bucket. "Berry" is one of her clearest words. (She is much more of a sweet tooth than Anselm, and unlike him, seems to require regular and adequate meals.)