In the spring of 2004, my husband dug a bed along the side of the house for raspberries. I did some research and decided on a variety of berries that I wanted and one day my husband showed up with three plants that he'd picked up at the best nursery in town.

We got a few berries last summer, but the location of the bed was wrong. It was a bit too shady and in a spot where I could conveniently forget to water it. Most of the berries it tried to set out, simply dried up.

The plants survived though and sent out a million little babies, which we gave away to a lot of excited neighbors this spring. We took the original three and transplanted them to a new raised bed closer to our raised vegetable bed. They are now thriving. Finally, yesterday I went out to pick berries and found what I've been hoping for. Enough berries to make this:

The blueberries were grown by my grandfather-in-law, but those raspberries all came from the backyard. And the tart is delicious.