Who pick? U pick!

Another "Why-haven't-we-done-this-before??" adventure...  We went blueberry picking for the first time in our lives as Washington residents.  We've been here 7 years (which is a Dayton family record) and never picked a one.

 

When we first walked up they offer tin pails just like in the book, Blueberries for Sal.  I squealed with excitement at the prospect of hanging this metal bucket off my belt loop like a pro.  More squeals ensued when I actually dropped the first few berries in and it made the sounds, "Plink plank plunk," just like the book.  Audrey and Ethan caught onto my excitement and began to fill their own containers, in somewhat of a race to the top.  The only problem they were having was eating more than they could save. It was as if each berry were a new invention from the Willy Wonka factory; they would draw my attention to each one they were going to eat, saying, "Look at this one, Mom!!"

The trees were LOADED with fat, juicy berries. We started discussing all the things we could make with our harvest: pancakes, smoothies, pie, and someone with their mouth full might have said hot dogs. I couldn't quite understand.

 The harvest was plentiful, and the tummies were satisfied. It was #67 on the list of Things We Should Do that I could now cross off. In blueberry juice.