Friday, April 5, 2013


     “Who wants pie?” Mom demanded after we’d cleared supper.
     “I do! I do!” my brothers and I piped.
     Genny laughed.
     “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


  1. Inspired by Laurie Leclaire's saskatoon reduction at

  2. I've never had saskatoons, but I thought bright colours like that was Nature’s way of telling us not to eat her (so to speak).

    1. A clever rumour spread by the ladybug community.


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