There's a big mulberry tree here at the curve of the U-shaped gravel driveway. Used to be a huge tree that hung over most of the driveway; I remember going out with my grandparents to hold the corner of a plastic sheet while one of them would bang on the tree branches with a stick 'til ripe mulberries fell into the plastic sheet. At peak, we'd usually get enough nice ripe ones to fill a few plastic ice cream buckets full of 'em; my Grandma would freeze them by the pint. Mulberries were always my favorite berry. Even if it meant purple blotches on cars and shoes (and carpet). The tree isn't quite what it used to be, but there were lots of green berries on it when I last gave it a good look.
The company my brother works for has never been the best sort of company to work for. They're sticklers for short lunch hours, actively discourage personal phone calls (my Dad called there once for my brother and got the third degree). So it didn't surprise any of us when they were a bit suspicious when my brother had to take time off this past year for three different funerals of grandparents. 'Course I think any company might wonder at that! (I think my brother might've ended up showing them obituaries for the last two).
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Date: 2004-06-07 06:33 pm (UTC)The company my brother works for has never been the best sort of company to work for. They're sticklers for short lunch hours, actively discourage personal phone calls (my Dad called there once for my brother and got the third degree). So it didn't surprise any of us when they were a bit suspicious when my brother had to take time off this past year for three different funerals of grandparents. 'Course I think any company might wonder at that! (I think my brother might've ended up showing them obituaries for the last two).