🫐🌱👌🏼
We picked blueberries at Joe’s parents’ place today. Me, my husband Angel, and Joe, a couple of buckets, most of the afternoon.
It’s easy work and it’s slow, which is the appeal. It doesn’t take long to get the hang of it. The ripe ones come off easy, and the ones that fight you aren’t ready yet. Joe kept finding the fullest branches and pointing them out. Angel worked the low bushes, the ones you have to crouch for, where the fruit sits in the shade and stays sweeter. Between the three of us the buckets filled faster than the conversation ever slowed.
Joe’s mom was out there too with the dogs, who had a system. Anything that hit the dirt was theirs. They ran the rows like a cleanup crew and I don’t think one dropped berry made it out of that patch.
Joe’s usually the one taking care of us, so it was good to spend an afternoon on his family’s land, picking from bushes his parents have been tending for years.
We came home with way more blueberries than three people should reasonably eat. Scones first, then muffins, then syrup with whatever’s left. Purple fingers for a day or two.
