Yeah, I finally changed the template of this here blog. I got just plain bored of the previous one. I'm all about minimalism, but after awhile it turns out to be maximally plain.
Today we drove over an hour to the south and east to pick organic blueberries in this totally random place. But it was all good in the end. This implies not so good at first. Mostly that has to do with our children being fairly opposed to driving long distances (read, over 10 minutes). But the blueberries were divine and it was simply beautiful. The weather was quite cool, barely sixty, cloudy, a virtual mist/drizzle in the air. But the green simply overtakes you the air feels heavy with life somehow. So we came away with about 10 pounds of blueberries and a large canning jar full of fresh-pressed cider from early-crop sour apples. And everybody helped pick blueberries (yes, even Esmé, except all the ones she ate ended up in her tummy). Our children are in their element out in nature. Therefore we are quite thankful to be living in this beautiful environment.
Enough of that. I have a new site devoted to randomness and fun kitsch. Check it out.
No post is complete without a pic. Enjoy!
7.29.2006
Lost amongst the overgrown Himalayan blackberries somewhere along the Skagit River.
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3 comments:
Blueberries are so good, and they are enjoyable to pick, as well. Have you ever had "Saskatoon" berries? They are related to the blueberry and are very popular and abundant here on the Canadian prairies. Krista and I planted a bush this year, so maybe we'll get fruit next year.
In Michigan (more towards the north amongst the woods) you could find what we called "huckleberries" which were basically small wild blueberries. But I've heard Canadians refer to something else not quite blueberry as huckleberries.
I've also heard recently that you can pick blueberries out at Mt Baker. Maybe these are like your Saskatoon berries.
I didn't know what "huckleberries" were. Always wondered because of Huck Finn. Wondered what kind of berry he was named after. It probably says in the book but it has been so long since I have read it.
Berry picking seems to be such an intregal part summer America. Something I lived my whole life wiith out except for a few trips to the raspberry patch at my grandma's farm before we went off to Kenya. I think I've gone berry picking every year since Jude's birth. The first time he was two months old and in the front pack. The raspberries were small and dark red, unbelievably sweet. The following year was strawberries with Jude on Isaiah's back. Handing him strawberries to keep him happy and the back of Iasiah's shirt dyed red. And of course apple picking and peaches and making pies and jam, apple butter and baked apples. These are things I would have dreamed of doing while we lived on Mt. Elgon. The hills were so steep that all the lush top soil was washed by torential rains into fast moving mountain rivers and when the seeds were planted and you wanted the rain, the dry season set in and stayed too long. Still amazed the way putting a seed in the ground here means you'll get a plant.
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