 |
| Finished picking |
 |
| The view! |
 |
| Cherries |
 |
| Umbrella in action |
 |
| In the tree |
First: We packed the car:
- 4 large plastic carrier bags
- 1 wooden ladder (smallish)
- 4 plastic vegetable crates
- 1 large umbrella
Off we went through the little alleyways of Roccella to one of Ilario's uncles, holder of the keys to the family home in the village of Saint Nicola. The keys were carried in a sack, a big cloth sack, because the keys were the size of my forearm and as heavy as a 15 lb bag of potatoes...think Gormenegast trilogy.
St. Nicola is the village of Ilario's mothers family. Nestled (the village) on a hillside above a beautiful river valley surrounded by rocky mountain,craggy hills.
Quick story about Ilario's Mom and Dad.
Ilario's Mom lived in St. Nicola, and at the time, their only mode of transport was feet, horse or donkey, needless to say she didn't meet that many suitable suitors, if any. So one day there is a wedding, many different people attended and one such person was a man, who was scoping out the lovely single ladies, to find a wife for his brother, who lives in Canada. He (the brother) had immigrated for work but wanted to marry an Italian woman (Calabrian) and well ,there weren't many of them in Thunder Bay area in the early 50's.
The brother, thought Ilario's Mom was well suited, intelligent and interesting enough for his brother to pursue.
First pictures were exchanged.
They thought the other 'attractive' enough and with the Uncle's 'worthy' opinion of both parties Ilario's (soon to be) Papa made the long boat trip from Canada to Italy to meet with his potential spouse. In a matter of days they were married but because Ilario's father had skipped out of his military service, there was a warrant for his arrest. Sooo they got married, he left on the next boat back to Canada, she went on the honeymoon by herself..I think it was Taromina in Sicily..and then too left Italy for Thunder Bay! Ten years and 4 boys later they came back to Roccella because Ilario's Mom wanted her boys to marry Calabrian women...only Ilario married a Calabrian woman. Back to the cherry picking!
It took us about 20 minutes to get to Ilario's family home in the village of St. Nicola. We were visiting the residences of his mother's fathers family - unfortunately the buildings were falling into disrepair. You could still see the majesty of the property, it contained wood ovens, olive presses, gardens, olive grove (the grove was just outside the kitchen door) stables for the animals (horses, donkeys, chickens, pigs - who all lived below the family dwelling.) Furniture and dishes left as though Ilario's grandfather had just gone out for a walk and was returning any moment.
The keys did not work but really there was no need as you could pull open a wooden door and grab a string and viola the door opened - guess you only needed to know about the string.
Back to cherry picking..The cherry tree, and it was just one tree, belongs to Ilario's Uncle (the key holder) and the tree was just below the town on a little hill, the tree was bursting with cherries and ready to be picked. The branches were nearly touching the ground, it was that heavy with fruit. A few very large bees were hanging about but that was it for competition.
The bags, crates, ladder and umbrella were brought to the tree (it was a very sunny morning, I was still confused with the umbrella's use, possibly for shade when we rested?) As we picked , we moved up the tree into the strong sturdy climbing branches.
Ah memories of my 'sour cherry' picking days as a child labourer (my Mom was the boss) came vividly to mind. How I dreaded those 2-3 days of cherry work. As children my mother would have us ALL go pick cherries for 1 day in an orchard outside of Toronto (I think it's now a huge mall in Mississauga.) Our outfits were long pants, shirt and a belt. My Mother would attach a basket to our belts and send us up the trees to start a-pickn'. Sour cherries are not so delicious to eat so all the cherries went into the basket and not our mouths. Also I noticed that sour cherries are much more juicier than the bing, or perhaps I was not so careful because all I remember is all the juice running down my arms into my armpits and then sticking together (I hated that feeling.) My body was a mass of sticky cherry juice within 10 minutes of my beginning to pick and we picked for 6 or more hours (ok perhaps it was less time...but it felt like longer.) My strategy was to keep my arms up and away from my armpits which made climbing and picking quite challenging.
Day 2-3 we spend in our backyard pitting the cherries using bobby pins. What another messy job but this time all the sticky cherry juice was on my legs so my knees stuck together (relief for my sore underarms) - I'm not sure if my entire family disliked the cherry time but we all sure enjoyed the cherry jams, preserves, pies and sauces our Mom made. Surely the cherry episodes were so much more work and stress for my Mom but she never said anything, only encouraged us with egg salad sandwiches and lemonade.
 |
| Pickn' the cherry |
Back to Calabria. As we moved up the tree we climbed into the branches farther out but some cherries were still too far away to reach. Ilario, looking up and seeing my imminent fall, handed me, you guessed it, the umbrella. "Do you want to use this?" he asks me. I was on the second branch, I thought sitting comfortably, and shaded well from the sun.."Uh no, no thank you.." He saw I was confused so he turned the umbrella upside down and using the hook handle he pulled the cherry laden branch towards me....now the cherries were in my grasp. Duh!
We filled all the bags and crates within 2 hours. We had so many cherries,but Ilario had 'come picking' with a plan.
And our crate of cherries, what would we do with a crate of cherries? Decided to give some away, eat alot of them and Branko made his first strudel ever, and yes you guessed it, we pitted them (using the ever versatile bobby pin) and Branko set up a drying rack using cheese cloth and the sun. We have a big container of delicious dried cherries to eat whenever we like. I think Branko has farmer genes, surely I won't be surprised to find a chicken aboard one day.
- 3 bags to friends - we dropped them off as we drove back to Roccella
- 1 crate for the Uncle,'holder of the keys' and owner of the cherry tree
- 1 crate to family
- 1 crate for us
- 1 bag and 1 crate for Ilario and misc friends and family
And our crate of cherries, what would we do with a crate of cherries? Decided to give some away, eat alot of them and Branko made his first strudel ever, and yes you guessed it, we pitted them (using the ever versatile bobby pin) and Branko set up a drying rack using cheese cloth and the sun. We have a big container of delicious dried cherries to eat whenever we like. I think Branko has farmer genes, surely I won't be surprised to find a chicken aboard one day.
Maggie
No comments:
Post a Comment