It’s that time of year again… the low sounding hum of honey bees as they dive in and around the bushes has stilled. The berries have begun to change from a bright green to a variegated sphere of green and purple, followed by a dark and lustrous blue, signalling time for harvest. Blueberries are ready for picking, and with it the freezer awaits the precious cargo that is destined to be enjoyed throughout the wet days of winter.
But before they can make their way to the freezer, they are eaten just “as is”–cobblers and muffins make their way out of the oven. Friends often say our blueberries are “the best”, but I never knew just how amazing they were until I ran out last winter. With changes in our diet, frozen blueberries have become a tasty evening snack. I had not correctly anticipated how many I would need to get us through the winter. Therefore quite reluctantly and with some measure of guilt, I bought a small bag at the store. After all somebody who grows blueberries should never resort to buying them from the grocers. Upon tasting them, I was left practically speechless. They were small, flavorless, and contributed nothing positive. Unbeknownst to me, I had been blessed more than I knew…
My goal for this winter, is to have a minimum of 100 pounds of blueberries in the freezer. I do it a bit at a time enlisting particular family members as they are available… or as my son John says with a wry smile, “Why am I the one that has to pick blueberries?”–the price he pays for being my best picker. He makes me laugh. My pace is that of the tortoise, but I remember in the end he was the one that finished first.
