Royal Golden Raspberries

Being outside is awesome! Don't get me wrong. Being inside is awesome too. Awesome with a capital W.... for wicked awesome! Seriously, who can complain about shelter? Not me. But there really are great things about the outside.

Like raspberries.

And not just any raspberries either. Golden Raspberries. And not just any Golden Raspberries either. Homemade ones! That's right. The last time I wrote about our raspberry bush, it was a youngun, a sapling, a juvenile little snot-nosed shit disturber.

Back then, I didn't really like the home-grown golden raspberries it produced. I couldn't quite place my finger on it, but there was something odd about them. Oh, how things have changed.

This year our golden raspberry crop was huge, mature and awesome! The sweetness of the berries oozed with deliciousness. They were amazing. I didn't really want to try them at first, and was happy enough eating the tasty red raspberries for a while. But I just couldn't let the golden ones go to waste, caved in and ate them.

Every day I ate a handful. A super tasty number one awesome handful. I was almost alarmed at how mouthwatering they were. I'm talking fit for a king. I was stunned. I had no idea I was a king. But the handfuls of gold mother nature handed me every day was a major clue.

The second and final clue came after I ate 50 of the royal raspberries, then sat on my throne for an hour. Long live the king!