What better way to spend a Saturday afternoon in late August than to go blueberry picking? I'm not talking about a stroll through a clearcut up in the mountains. When I lived in Roslyn I used to do that when I was scouting elk hunting spots. I'd take the kids and turn them loose on a patch of huckleberry bushes. Ole was small enough that he had trouble navigating the terrain so I'd plop him down on a nice high stump where he could see us and than break off a branch loaded with berries and let him have at it like corn on the cob. Those were special times. Today I'm talking about patronizing a local business.
So we got our "OK for permanent stains" cloths on, grabbed our various pans and buckets and headed out.
Looks like someone isn't planning to tag along, or even see us off. (sound asleep at noon, my mom would have thought it scandolous!)
Checking the 'neighbors' along the way we find there are still chicks on the nest out on Elma Gate Road, (there were chicks in the Moon road nest too)
And the Alpacas appear as haughty as ever. I'm sure they are not looking down thier noses at me but with that long neck and those big, unblinking eyes, well, you just ge the sense that in general, they disapprove of riff raff. It's even more pronounced on my bike commute home.
Finally, we are at the blueberry farm. over 120 acres of blueberries. Nick the berry guy says it's been an average year for yields so far. It looks like a bumper crop to me.
I am always amazed at how productive these plants are.
As you can see an awful lot of them never even make it to market. There were tons of robbins, honey bees, and yellow jackets 'helping' with the harvest. (Mrs C got stung!)
Just under three hours and we come away with nearly 34 ponds of fruit.
It's cheaper than buying frozen (they have that available year round) but money's not the point.