Every year we enjoy going out to pick blueberries. For the last several years we have been picking at a local farm called Touchablue Blueberry Farm. It is owned by an elderly couple who often sit out at the little farm stand where the berries are weighed. He has studied blue berries and trees of all kinds and can tell you anything you need to know about growing fruit. This year we haven’t seen them at the stand. When they are not able to tend the stand, they leave a box out for you to weigh your own berries and the farm seems to run itself well on the honor system.
It is always very hot out there but the berries are so sweet and delicious it is worth the hard work. We have been out picking twice so far this year. Carlie and Donny really enjoy the experience though they don’t help pick for long. Maine produces a large percent of the nations blueberries and I grew up raking and picking berries during the month of August from the time I was eight. In Maine the berries grow on low bushes, only about a foot tall. It’s a nice change to be able to pick blueberries standing up and these berries are about twice the size too so the bucket seems to fill in no time at all. But the trade off is you are picking in extreme, humid heat and no sea breeze, like was always so welcome in the fields back home.
Making a picnic to take along for our supper.
Carlie found scrap paper in the box on the table and asked me what they were for. I told her, “You might use them to leave a note for the farmer or something.” She said, “I love the farmer. I’ll write him a note.” Not what I was thinking, I told her, “No! Not a note like that. For if you wanted him to know how many blueberries you picked or something.”
Carlie and Donny do everything together. Of course it isn’t always sweet friendship but they are lost without the other one. If Carlie sleeps and Donny is up early, he is constantly asking for her and running down to check if she is still sleeping and squeals with delight when she wakes up. If it’s Carlie who is up first she sits on the couch saying over and over, “I miss my friend Donny.” I’m so thankful they are close in age and can grow up together.