This is the time of year we feel like we’re drowning in blueberries. We head out each day and pick berries, sometimes for a few minutes, sometimes for a not-so-few minutes. Today, for example, I picked for about an hour; K joined me for about half an hour, and she was not even picking in a new spot of the bushes: she was going back over where I’d been, grabbing the berries I’d overlooked because they were hiding.
And the rest of the time? K was making the first batch of jam for the year.
