The price is determined by how many boys it takes to ride up and down the road on their bikes looking for wild raspberry bushes. Each boy wants a buck and I want the raspberries. It's a very agreeable business transaction for all. The boys unfortunately get very purple stained hands and knees, but a good long swim in the pool after finding them, takes care of that.
And I hide them in the back of the fridge until early in the morning, when I swirl their sweetness into my yogurt, while my little berry pickers sleep.
