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Blueberry Memories

July 11, 2013

    This morning I stepped out my front door and was greeted by the reason I live in Indiana. It was 63 degrees. What a marvelous treat on one of my favorite days of the year, blueberry day. When planning my summer, the first thing that goes on my calendar is blueberry opening day. Two years ago I wrote about this very day and how much my son hated it. I want to share that blog with you again, but good news; this year I did not hear one word of complaint. Thank you Lord! So this year I thoroughly enjoyed my blueberry experience especially our 98 pound haul. Blueberries anyone? I hope you enjoy this once again.

For the past month I have regaled you with the benefits of children in their natural state; the state of play.  Today I will share with you an equally important ingredient in a child’s life, torturous physical labor.  By torturous let me explain my son’s idea of torture.

     Blueberry picking day for us comes but one day a year.  Somewhere around the 4th of July each summer, luscious blue balls of heaven ripen and beg to be plucked from their branches. The day starts very early for us, rising at dawn, our goal is to beat the other blueberry gatherers to the prime picking spots.  Equipped with the essential blueberry gear; water bottles, hats and the all important bug repellent, we head off in search of our treasure.

     When we arrive at the blueberry farm we are greeted with a scene of sublime pastural peace.  Row upon row of blueberry bushes trail back into the woods.  A pink and silver sunrise is the backdrop for a pasture dotted with grazing horses.  The air is cool and damp.  It is a promise of a glorious Indiana day.  To my mind this is not the scene of a torture chamber.  But alas, my son is already complaining and we’ve yet to put our fingers on one blueberry.

     The first blueberries are designated for one purpose, breakfast!  There are few things better in life than plopping ripe, dew covered berries into your mouth. YUM!  We are free to eat all we want, and we do.  Eventually the sound of berries being dropped into buckets replaces the sounds of munching.

     The wonderful thing about blueberry picking is that there is no stooping involved.  God was so considerate to create a bush that offers up such a wonderful treat right at eye level.  The work is not hard and today the air is cool and bug free.  Tell me please, how is this horrible?  You would think my son was digging ditches in 100 degree heat.  That just may be an option.

     Summer time and each season should be filled with activities of the season.  Our children need to experience life outside of their self imposed, air conditioned prison.  At first they may complain.  Based on my own son, I’ll guarantee they will complain.  But these activities are the things that enrich life.  They are childhood memories.  They will not remember what game they played or what movie they watched, but they will never forget picking blueberries, jumping in piles of fall leaves, building a snow fort or running around in a spring rain.  Life is outside and no matter how they whine; we must help them to live it.

     My son will tell you that blueberry day is the worst day of the year.  I rate it as one of the best.  It will turn out to be a wonderful memory for him one day.  One day he will realize that it was not hard work, and he will yearn for the taste of dew covered blueberries. 

     No matter how they whine or complain, compel them to take part in the joyous work of life.  This is not the hard labor they think it is.  This is the easy stuff.  So head outside.  Pick some berries , and if they whine too much, I do have some ditches that need digging.

 

For those in my area, visit the Prelock Blueberry Farm website for directions.  They opened today July 11th.

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9 Comments leave one →
  1. Judy permalink
    July 12, 2011 11:54 am

    Blueberry day provides great memories for grandparents too! I was fortunate to be with you on that day not too many years ago and we still tell the stories spawned by blueberry picking with you and your children. Thanks, Debbie!

    • July 12, 2011 9:12 pm

      I am so glad you were able to share that day with us. It is a special memory. Wish you were here every blueberry day!

  2. Laura Kidwell permalink
    July 12, 2011 1:06 pm

    Debbie, I loved this blueberry story!You described the day with such poetry!What a fun morning that was!Your son did have me almost rolling in the blueberry bushes with his funny stories so I know he did have some fun!

    • July 12, 2011 9:11 pm

      I adore our yearly outing. I am so glad to share it with you every year. Yes, Jared is constant entertainment. This year will be the year of Rendercella.

  3. scott kaufmann permalink
    July 12, 2011 7:41 pm

    Tell my nephew that I will show him the difference between work and blueberry picking……wall building with your uncle 101 starts tomorrow

  4. Diana permalink
    July 13, 2011 9:15 pm

    I agree…we used to tell our girls that Labor Day meant they were supposed to labor. Thus, it was sort of cleaning day for our family. Not until they got old enough to go places with friends for fun did they realize that most families had picnics on Labor Day. However, now that they are adults…they have plenty of good memories of ‘family work days’ on Labor Day!!

    • July 14, 2011 8:37 am

      I don’t think my kids realize that labor day is for fun either. Actually they think all holidays are work days. But I’m slowly changing. Maybe I should mix in some some fun on those days too. Just kidding, my kids are not lacking in the fun area. Thanks for sharing!

  5. Laura Kidwell permalink
    July 11, 2013 4:54 pm

    I love this!!! I have lots of fond memories of picking blueberries with you and you children!! Last time your youngest son had me rolling with laughter!! Love you all!!!:)

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