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By JIM ADKINS, Guest Columnist
When I was a kid in Hobart, my aunt Elsie would take me berry picking with her every summer. We had a wonderful time, roaming the verdant woods and picking mulberries or blackberries; whichever was in season. It was always hot during berry-picking season, but that didn’t discourage us. We walked for miles, but a big bowl of the wild fruit with milk and sugar when we got home made it worth enduring. Just writing this brings back lots of wonderful family memories.
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