Just thought I would share the first time the kids and I have ever seen a blueberry bush. They say bush but these look like trees to me. We went with three other wonderful families that said yes to my insane universe. The kids had a good time, well child's #2 and #3 did. #1 caught the fun buzz after he and his friend found out how much an underdeveloped blueberry hurt when thrown at others. No casualties though. No, I lie. One of the kids was stung by a wasp.
I didn't find out until a little later and I do mean a "little" later that the blueberry has great digestive properties. You would think that I had learned my lesson to not eat so many of them. No. They were just to good and at .90 a pound.... what the H E double hockey sticks.
The kids asked me why I always "make" them pick fruit. I always thought it was because it was a cheap family outing and a way to increase our food storage (Mormon thing). The truth is that my grandparents on both sides were migrant workers and I remember seeing them work. It was hard and dirty work that I was luck enough not to have to do. Growing up around all the seasonal produce one could possible consume was great. The smell is what I remember the most. Clean and sweet. When we drove with the windows down I would stick my arm out the window and feel the temp drop when we hit the fields. If I could get my kids to feel just a drop of what that felt like to me........ It's important for them to know their roots no matter how dirty it is. I hope it humbles them a little to know these things.
I didn't find out until a little later and I do mean a "little" later that the blueberry has great digestive properties. You would think that I had learned my lesson to not eat so many of them. No. They were just to good and at .90 a pound.... what the H E double hockey sticks.
The kids asked me why I always "make" them pick fruit. I always thought it was because it was a cheap family outing and a way to increase our food storage (Mormon thing). The truth is that my grandparents on both sides were migrant workers and I remember seeing them work. It was hard and dirty work that I was luck enough not to have to do. Growing up around all the seasonal produce one could possible consume was great. The smell is what I remember the most. Clean and sweet. When we drove with the windows down I would stick my arm out the window and feel the temp drop when we hit the fields. If I could get my kids to feel just a drop of what that felt like to me........ It's important for them to know their roots no matter how dirty it is. I hope it humbles them a little to know these things.
