Nancy Weaver's red-stained knees were the giveaway that she was in the know.
Nancy Weaver's red-stained knees were the giveaway that she was in the know.
It’s been a banner year in the bog at Cranberry Acres, located off Lambert's Cove Road, with an expected yield of over 2,000 pounds. Harvest season is well under way.
Magnificent as a roasted turkey is, it would be nothing, possibly the entire day of Thanksgiving would be nothing, without the small, tart, shining red cranberry.
Members of the Wampanoag Tribe of Gay Head (Aquinnah) headed down to the bogs to celebrate Cranberry Day, a longstanding harvest tradition for the Vineyard’s Native American tribe. The day ended with a potluck dinner.
On Halloween morning, Carol Magee, the executive director of the Vineyard Open Land Foundation, gave me my first lesson in cranberry sorting.
Now I know better.
Throughout my childhood, I only recognized cranberries as that deep red gelatinous blob that came out of a can on Thanksgiving Day.