berry a no-no

i'll say it: i don't like raspberries. i kind of thought i did, and forced myself to eat quite a few of the little balls of tart off the berry bush, and tried to chow down some of the jam i made, but nope. they're gross. they're sour and gritty and altogether relatively nasty. which isn't to say i'm not going to stop picking them and making "delicious" treats out of them.... the only bad thing is i can't really be a sound judge of whether or not the treats are actually yummy. because to me they all are bursting with unbearable, disgusting sourness that makes my toes grip the floor. i'm almost getting legitimately mad at the bushes in my backyard and they're unforgiving production of the sour nugs. every day there are so many goddamn berries. and the funny thing is, i definitely remember liking them when i was a kid... when my brothers and sisters and i would be having our he-man/she-ra adventures and andrea and erica would be forced to be witches and we would get our dad's hedge clippers and make elaborate tunnels in the underbrush of our fort and when we needed sustenance we would head to the huge patch of raspberry bushes behind our house and pound them. into our faces. and they seemed great. but we were also taking shits in the woods and using leaves as toilet paper because our mom would lock the doors to the house. SO...... hard to take any food-related decisions we made at that point seriously. we also ate cat food. and tried to make "paste" out of acorns like the native americans might do.... or at least that's what i thought they did. have i mentioned how the most intense daydream of my childhood was that i would be kidnapped/rescued by an indian warrior and we would wear deerskins and draw crazy blue lines on our faces and talk about how lame white people were? yep. raspberries.