This weekend we took our family blueberry picking. The blueberry farm was a sweet reminder to slow down and cherish where our food comes from. Real food. Pure food.
After driving down a dusty, winding road you are welcomed by a sweet little lady wrapped in an apron. She stands on the front porch of her old farmhouse and instantly makes you feel at home, offering ice cold water and homemade cinnamon bread to the new harvesters.
We grabbed our buckets and went to work. As we weaved through the rows or blueberry bushes a quiet peace blows in on the warm summer breeze. As my hands are busily searching for the perfect berries, my mind was set free from the weight of the week.
With full buckets we walked the steps of that old front porch. There she sells fresh brown eggs and local honey. Our harvest is weighed, over 12 lbs!
Now that we are home, the kids have already eaten a bucketful, and there are a few pounds tucked away in the freezer. I've made blueberry popsicles and I'm sure there will be many batches of blueberry muffins and pancakes.
It was the perfect, simple day to enjoy a little taste of Summer.
Oh! I went blueberry picking once when we were still in Jersey. I loved it! It even sounds like the same place. Thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeletei HAVEN'T BEEN TO A "U-PICK" IN SOOO LONG....THE LAST TIME, I BELIEVE IT WAS APPLES.DIFFERENT FRUIT, BUT EXACT SAME FEELINGS...ISN'T IT WONDERFUL? :)
ReplyDeleteI'm still looking for an apple orchard...that would be so fun!
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