Memories of Whortleberry Picking

No reward at the end of the day.

During the Whortleberry season I would spend all my spare time on Exmoor picking these very small berries. I remember one sunny day labouring for many hours to fill a jar and was pleased with myself as I walked down the slop on my way home.

It had been raining the night previous and the going was slippery. My feet took off and I landed on my bottom. I was not hurt but the jar had launched into the air and my hard earned rewards were scattered down the hill disappearing into the muddy track.

Something behind me

As a girl I was happy picking Whortleberries. They were low down but that did not worry me as I use to sit on the ground thinking about what I was going to spend the money on when I sold them to the greengrocer. However, this occupation came to an abrupt end when someone told me that there were lots of snakes on the Moor.

The cover up

My parents after school would drag me to the Moor to pick Whortleberries. I would sooner have played football as picking was hard work. I was made to labour until I had my quota , a baked bean tin full. One day I put a large stone in the bottom of the tin and covered it with a few berries. My mother was not pleased when she went to make a pie that evening. Please send us your anecdotes of Whortleberry Picking E-mail Tea@Whortleberry.co.uk