The front side of the blackberry bushes are picked clean. It could be birds, or it could be other people brave enough to stop at the edge of the woods. The back side isn't, though. The berries on the other side are so big, they're falling right off the vines and dying the earth purple. It made my heart thump, and I could hear the blood pulsing in my ears, but I tugged my way through a break in the bushes and got to the other side. I had to stitch together a few holes in my frock, but it was worth it. 

And - no witches.

I didn't see a single one. Maybe they don't travel that close to the edge of the wood.

I brought home enough berries that Mama could turn them into jam to sell on market days and buy some fresh herbs for Michael. I'm going to get more, though. If we have enough, we can safe the preserves for the winter, and Mama could sell more jam. Then she won't have to worry about scraping together enough coins to put in the collection basket at the temple. You don't ever want to be caught putting nothing in the collection basket. That's a sure way to get the aunts watching you. If you don't have any money to put in the basket, they'll say you spent it all on frivolity or you've found some bad luck. Both can be caused by a curse or might be a mark of witchcraft. 

Everyone knows that.

Frivolous excess means you're not afraid to dabble - try out a curse or two just for fun or to prevent boredom. If you are struggling, that means you're desperate, and desperate people will try anything to stop feeling so desperate. I guess that's a little bit true - I did enter the wood for some blackberries, but it's bot like I went far, and I didn't curse anyone so I'm not that desperate. 

Mama tried not to smile at all the berries I carried home in my apron, but I saw the way the corners of her lips turned up before she turned away from me. I think I'll go back tomorrow.