To take full advantage of the milder weather we've had for the past couple days. I decided to take the boys to the blueberry farm to pick berries this morning. When we left the house it was 68 F (20C) the boys decided to wear hats because that is what they determined farmers wear. In fact, when Q saw a man picking berries without a hat he couldn't believe it.
"Why doesn't that guy have a hat on?" he asked.
"Because he is not a REAL blueberry farmer, " I told him.
"Ohhh right," he whispered.
The boys ate tons of blueberries and a few blackberries. In fact, we ate more and spilled more than we brought home. Q, who has been known to take tumbles or walk into stuff, fell down a couple times dumping our booty in the tall grass.
It reminded me of growing up in Ohio. My mom would take me strawberry picking every year so she could make her year's supply of jelly. I had to get up at some absurd hour of the morning and plunge into the damp sluggy fields to pick the berries. After that we would go to breakfast, which was the best of all.
Frankly blueberry picking is much better. No bending! In fact there is the opposite problem, the really great berries are way up high. Someday the boys will be taller than me and can pull the branches down to get the really good ones.
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