Friday, July 19, 2013

Blueberry Fields Forever

The week of the fourth of July was one of grand adventuring for me and my girl.  We got in loads of family time with my side of the family; I took Sweet Pea and Bean to meet my mom at the beach the Sunday night before and we stayed a whole week.

It was glorious.

Except I was pregnant-sick and my mom was sick-sick.  But if you're going to feel crappy anyway, it might as well be at one of your favorite places in the world, right?

It sounds crazy, but I was actually a little hesitant to head to the beach when we did for one reason: I knew I would miss out on prime blueberry picking at our local orchard.  Now, I happen to love blueberries, but Sweet Pea LOVES blueberries.  Blueberry picking was the highlight of her life last summer.  She couldn't believe that she could sit in the shade of a bush and grab her favorite treat at arm's reach for as long as she wanted.  We went quite a few times.  Blueberries for Sal was her favorite book.  She was Sal.  We themed her birthday around blueberries.

We take blueberries seriously!

But missing beach time seemed a little silly to stay home and try to muster the gumption to blueberry pick barefoot and pregnant and (still) nauseous, so go to the beach we did.  I told myself I would try to find a decent place to pick berries out on the shore.  I figured the pickings would be slim, but we could still give it a whirl.

Boy, was I ever wrong.  We did find a decent place...a glorious place...a place I will love forever with my whole heart.  Just when I thought the shore couldn't get any better- bam- blueberries!

Off a little country road (Blueberry road, to be exact) in southern Delaware lies a blueberry gem called 2Blu Organics.  They sell pick-your-own organic blueberries for about $2 a pound.  Yes, you read that right.  And they were the best blueberries I have ever had.

The little farm is nothing (everything!) but a sweet family and some horses and dogs and billions of blueberries.  60-year-old blueberry bushes that the guy doesn't touch except to bushwhack between the rows.  The only sounds out there are the breeze, the birds and the occasional rooster call.  Just us, no one else.

And if you're with my kid, the oft, "Mama!  I so hottttttttt!"

My child has a weak constitution apparently.  She likes to live the easy life and likes A/C.  She didn't do so well at blueberry picking that day, nor did Bean.  But my mom and I together picked nearly 17 pounds of blueberries.

I loved it.

Some of the berries were as big as the tip of my thumb, kid you not.  

Can you find the butterfly she's chasing? 

I sense a new tradition aloft, no?

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