June 23, 2026

New-to-me-fact about trailing blackberries; Natsuo Kirino's "Out;" Dad and his friend Howard Wolf; izakaya dinner by Yoko

From the Woods

And the trailing blackberries (rubus ursinus) are ripe!!! These small, tart-sweet berries grow on the edges of things—the boundary between a stand of older trees and a stand of younger trees, along a road or trail, along a fallen log. So far this year, I’ve had the best luck right around our barns and along the old skid road snaking below our house.

Every year, I see vines that bloom with beautiful white petals, but then don’t bear fruit— just dusty brown bits where the petals were. Today, I learned from the Washington Native Plant Society’s Facebook group that while most rubus plants (raspberries, blackberries etc) are monoecius (each plant has both male and female flowers), trailing blackberries are dioecious (each plant is either male or female.)

BOTH male and female have blooms, but the male "staminate" flowers only make pollen and the female "pistillate" flowers bear fruit (if pollinated). The person who answered my question wrote, “it is an uncommon life strategy for rubus, but quite common in some other genera.” I love the phrase “uncommon life strategy” used for plants. I knew about monoecius and dioecius but I didn’t know both male and female flowered.

While I picked, pale pink Nootka rose and ocean spray provided a fragrant backdrop.

People Older Than Trees

During Dad’s second and third year of forestry school at the University of Missouri, he shared a two-bedroom basement apartment with four other guys. The called themselves the “Haul Ass Fraternity.”

Dad stayed friends with one of them, Howard Wolf (seated, left—Dad is seated on the right), until his death in 2013. They ran a “gypo” logging company in Oregon for a couple years in the early 60’s—a bumpy partnership—but an endearing friendship. Howard was a character, and when he showed up (usually unannounced) we three kids loved listening to him and Dad talk.

Howard like to call on the phone. In the 70’s, phone ringing was an event. At first we had a “party-line;” our ring was two long rings, the Boone’s was a long and a short ring, and the Jacobsen’s two short rings. The three of us kids would race to answer the phone. It provided a distraction—an entry to a world outside the house. It’s seems quaint now; the outside world is just a tap away ALL THE TIME.

Whenever Howard called, he’d just start talking. He’d ask questions, and we’d be flummoxed. As we grew older we know he was the-guy-who-never-said-his-name, and would just yell, Dad, it’s Howard.”

What I’m Reading

Continuing the “reading for pure pleasure” theme for the summer, I’m thirty pages in to Natsuo Kirino’s crime novel “Out.” So far, it follows a group of women who work in a bento factory, preparing box lunches for the convenience stores that populate every other corner in Japanese cities. The work is grueling—one woman puts rice in the plastic container, another flattens it, the next places fried chicken dipped in sauce on top, another situates a scoop of potato salad. The younger women vie for the easier jobs— flattening the rice demands wrist strength. And of course, all the work must be done in time to the conveyor belt and the male supervisor’s harangue. I wonder who will die first.

A book featuring the shelves on which these delicious lunches end up is “Convenience Store Woman,” not a crime novel, but a good read.

Stumptown

On Friday, Yoko cooked an amazing “izakaya” (pub/tavern/tapas) meal: yakisoba, spinach with sesame, grilled onigiri, kontatsu, rolled egg, takoyaki. . . it was delicious. To walk it off, we wandered down to Cedar Mill Creek, crossed the creek and found a path back up to a paved trail on the other side. We didn’t quite have the right footwear, but it was fun nonetheless.