Raspberries are to taste as the first dandelion of the year is to sight. I love raspberries. I love raspberries so much I will drive 40 miles round trip in 98 degree weather to pick them. And even though it is hot and prickly, I will keep picking them. And just when I am about to say "Uncle" to the hot weather, my nephew brings me a frozen raspberry treat of his own making: a popsicle in an ice cube tray with a toothpick holder. He modestly claims, "I just smooshed some berries into the tray and added a little water." Oh, divine taste. It inspires me to keep picking a couple pints more. Raspberries bring me back in time. My grandparents had rows and rows of raspberries. There was mowed lawn between the rows. Once I was there when they invited the nuns from St. Bernards to come and pick berries. I was a preschooler. One nun and I were having a good time talking and picking. I had to run home to go to the bathroom. I came back to the raspberry patch to find her and I was so disappointed. All nuns looked alike. I have another raspberry memory - of more of an adult nature. I once took a cup of raspberries and put them in a quart jar. I covered the berries with vodka and set it in the sun for a week. When I poured the vodka out, the raspberries were white. All the beautiful raspberry color and taste had migrated into the vodka. This raspberry concoction was tasty with ice and 7-Up. My favorite way to eat raspberries? Plain and fresh - don't even rinse them because rinsing makes them soggy. Just make sure there are no bugs on it and pop it into the mouth. Delicious!