We went to a farm yesterday afternoon to pick blueberries. There were lots of things we could have harvested-- onions, strawberries, blueberries, raspberries... I don't know what else-- but the blueberry season is short and we really were there checking out how to get there and what it's like so the girls and I could go with friends this coming Saturday. We probably won't pick much that day anyhow. It will be more fun to romp between the rows, and the season will be wrapping up by then I think.
It was a lovely drive getting there. The girls asked a time or two how long until we reached the farm, and I finally said, "We'll be there in ten horses." We counted that many within a mile-- oops! Fortunately, Nora's counter started over every time she saw a new batch of horses, so it was kind of funny and it really wasn't much farther anyway.
The bushes were much shorter than the blueberry bushes I remember picking with my family when I was little. Was the variety different, or was I just a lot shorter then? A little Siamese mix kitten adopted us as soon as we got there, and was probably what made picking for an hour and a half wholly enjoyable for both girls. There were no biting bugs, and we had overcast skies, thunder, and occasional drizzle, so really the weather cooperated with us overall as well. We collected almost six pounds of berries, and we're already enjoying the fruits of our collective labor.