As summer begins, blueberry season starts its brief time here in the south. This year finds us a bit late in our berry picking adventure. Plump juicy bubbles of blue goodness dangle temptingly from tall sprawly bushes. Blueberries are not native to our region, but years of testing and trying have brought the blueberry to our deep south.
We have been picking our fresh blueberries since the kids were just tots, toting picnic lunches and wagons through the rows year after year. Often my farm boy rode on my shoulders gathering berries from overhead; his sisters at my feet gathering from below.
He now carries his own bucket and, being much taller than I, he challenges me to pick a load faster than he does.
His sisters are no longer at my feet. They carried their own load for several years. For the first time our girls didn't join us; work called one away; one is married and on her own..it happens when they grow.