Our friends, Don and Margaret, have a backyard full of blueberry bushes, which means that they have oodles and oodles of (organic!) blueberries! How very nice for us that Margaret is out of the country and Don is much too busy with work and clinicals to care about picking berries.
Every few days we zip up the road to their house (it's not far) with our containers. (I must tell you, I adore my aqua colored berry carton. Berries look beautiful in it!) And, we enter Blueberry Land where we can take as many as we wish to pick with our little fingers.
I'm telling you, friends, it's addictive... picking blueberries. My mother-in-law says it's therapeutic. Whatever the spell that is cast it is calming and simple and so close to nature. When I'm not actually picking them I'm
thinking about picking them!
It's hot and itchy work but fun and rewarding. So many pretty things to notice. The boys have a good time, too. Boo eats them right off the bush scarcely dropping any fruit into his carton. Tukes, who is convinced that he does not like blueberries, carries around his empty berry picking cup and follows his brother into the woods.
We bring them home and set them on the counter where they continue to ripen overnight. Then I put them away, the refrigerator or the freezer, and I give them to friends. If you happen to stop by my house when I'm not at home know that I'm probably picking blueberries. If you hang around, I'll send some home with you!
Our friends, Don and Margaret, have a backyard full of blueberry bushes, which means that they have oodles and oodles of (organic!) blueberries! How very nice for us that Margaret is out of the country and Don is much too busy with work and clinicals to care about picking berries.
Every few days we zip up the road to their house (it's not far) with our containers. (I must tell you, I adore my aqua colored berry carton. Berries look beautiful in it!) And, we enter Blueberry Land where we can take as many as we wish to pick with our little fingers.
I'm telling you, friends, it's addictive... picking blueberries. My mother-in-law says it's therapeutic. Whatever the spell that is cast it is calming and simple and so close to nature. When I'm not actually picking them I'm thinking about picking them!
It's hot and itchy work but fun and rewarding. So many pretty things to notice. The boys have a good time, too. Boo eats them right off the bush scarcely dropping any fruit into his carton. Tukes, who is convinced that he does not like blueberries, carries around his empty berry picking cup and follows his brother into the woods.
We bring them home and set them on the counter where they continue to ripen overnight. Then I put them away, the refrigerator or the freezer, and I give them to friends. If you happen to stop by my house when I'm not at home know that I'm probably picking blueberries. If you hang around, I'll send some home with you!
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