“Who wants pie?” Mom demanded after we’d cleared supper.
“I do! I do!” my brothers and I piped.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing . . . It’s just, you all sounded like eager little kids.”
“Well, it’s saskatoon pie,” Mom said, eyes narrowing.
“You’ve never had saskatoon pie?” Dad asked.
“Never . . .”
Heads shook at her deprivations.
“. . . I can't wait to taste this famous saskatoon berry.”
Now we laughed.
Genny looked at me, a little hurt. “What did I say?”
“Well, it’s ‘saskatoon,’ not ‘saskatoon berry,’” I explained. “You wouldn’t say raspberry berry, or strawberry berry . . .”
Really: sometimes Genny can be so provincial.
Image: The saskatoon (Amelanchier alnifoliahe) pride of the prairies (and prairie folk), courtesy Government of Manitoba
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