I always cherish my visits to Grandma’s house up in the Colorado mountains. Her yard is a flower garden overflowing with hollyhocks, delphinium, and raspberries–a sweet combination of blues and pinks surrounded by expanses of various shades of green. Grandma tells me wonderful stories of her childhood: Life was simpler back then, and her family didn’t have much, so they valued what they found and what they could grow. When they were lucky enough to find gooseberries, they picked them and took them home. A little sprinkle of salt helped reduce the sour taste, and Grandma and her sisters thought gooseberries were a rare kind of treat. If they could gather enough, their mother made a pie!