Yesterday, 4 generations of us girls spent an afternoon together. My grandmother shooed us out of the kitchen and off to the nearby blueberry patch with the promise of a hearty lunch upon our return. My mom, my daughters and I all trundled down a little back lane to the neighbor's farm.
We pulled in and parked near the barn...Toucie is always on the lookout for any new barn kittens that may have been born since we were here last. (There is a little grey and white one in the doorway if you look closely!) We've been picking blueberries with my mom for about 13 or 14 years...it is the best kind of family tradition.
The couple that built and live on this farm are Norwegian. You can see hints of their heritage all around...like here in the design of this garden shed. It is like stepping inside a Jan Brett storybook!
Here is the welcoming committee! This old Shepherd always seems to remember us from year to year...at least she makes us feel that way :)
We grab our pails and hike through the meadow, around the lily pond, just past the pine wood, into this little valley...
...and there it is! A whole slope of highbush blueberries taller than we are ourselves!
And they are just dripping with plump berries.
The big girls get busy right away...
The littlest one spends alot of time doing this:
...and this:
(exploring the pine woods next to the blueberry patch and the treehouse that is there)
Our haul this time was 4 gallons.
And after about 2 hours of picking, we were ready for Grandma's lunch, so back through the meadows we went to pay the neighbors for our berries.
Back at home, Toucie made up for her lack of productivity in the field by sorting all the berries with me. This is no easy feat; what you see here is just one gallon. We sorted 4 gallons and bagged up almost all of them for the freezer. She also helped bake a fresh blueberry pie.
(berries tossed in flour and sugar, snug in their crust)
Good stuff!
Jam is next on the list :)
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