For the love of blueberries

The Country Today ^ | 8-8-03 | Theresa Blume

[SJackson]

When Mom put the three youngest kids in the big black baby buggy, we never knew where the journey might take us. Sometimes we found our way up the road a quarter of a mile to the neighbor's house. Sometimes we just went around and around, following our circle driveway until all of us were asleep. But when she put her big kitchen pots in with us, we knew it was time to go blueberry picking.

She hauled us out to the back of the pasture using the old cow path. As we bumped along with squeaking wheels hitting uneven ground, we drooled in anticipation of the coming results.

When we reached our destination, my older brothers would hold up the rusty barbwire fence, so the little ones could crawl under. The neighbor's side of the fence had greener grass and definitely bluer berries, since he didn't have cows on his land.

Mom usually got right down to business, harvesting the naturally delicious wild fruit. As each berry hit its new home, there was a sound of a muffled, soft, but firm "plunk" hitting empty metal. As the bottom of the pan was covered, the "plunk" sound became a whispered "thud." Within two hours you could see the beginning of a low back sunburn where Mom's skin peeked out. Every once in a while she would stand up and stretch backwards, but she never quit until all her kettles were full.

Meanwhile, I had to investigate the area with a small child's curiosity. Tiny ants scurried quickly to get out of my vision, as they discovered my joy in smoothing sand over their ready-made holes. There were also mounds of moss-covered ground we kids called Indian graves that fascinated me. I liked to lie on a mound and pretend it was my bed. I always wondered whose grave I was lying on. Finally I would begin my mission, and join the others in the blueberry picking.

I found that the tiny green ones made the loudest "plunk" in my kettle, so I made sure to include them. There were off-white ones that added interest, along with red ones, not quite true quality. Mom always encouraged us kids, no matter what the finished look in our kettle. Of course, she did her own sorting of the blueberries later, when we weren't watching.

Mom always had several large kettles full by the time I had my pot's bottom covered. I don't know how she did it so fast, but she seemed so skilled and smart that it didn't surprise me. The hard part was getting them home going back along the bumpy path without spilling them. Of course I did my part to hold the pots still. If they seemed too full, I generously carried them in my stomach. Sometime later there would be freshly baked blueberry pies on our kitchen counter. I can honestly say that never in my life have I been able to match the taste of Mom's warm, made-from-scratch, blueberry pie. I've ordered it in restaurants, trying to recapture the joy it brought to a child's simple life. Now I don't mean to knock anybody else, but the pies are generally cold, and the waitress just doesn't have the same look of tired accomplishment on her face that Mom did with several large bursting hot pies finished. We never waited for the pie to cool, so vanilla ice cream was a necessity. Now that I'm older, I've realized it's not just the taste (although it's still unmatched), but also a special piece of my childhood. We were included because there were no baby sitters back then, and Mom wouldn't leave us. I knew I was important because I had my own pot, so I had real responsibility. I knew I was part of my family, and one of Mom's helpers.

With six kids I'm not sure that Mom had time to think how her actions would affect each of us in the long run. I am not a baker of pies. I think it's because I could never compare to what Mom gave us, so I try to include my children in other ways. I do know that to this day, every one of the six of us still loves blueberry pie. And we knew that Dad loved Mom, because he would always tell us as we were enjoying our special treat, "Your Mom makes the best blueberry pie in the whole world." When I look at people nowadays, worried about diets or eating too much or too little, or trying to replace love with food, I shake my head. The blueberry pie didn't replace the love I was given. It showed it to me in a way that even as a young toddler, I could understand and accept that I was loved.

This story is published with permission of the author. To submit stories, send them to The Country Today Yarn, P.O. Box 570, Eau Claire, WI 54702

[SJackson]

Personally, I like to just bend over, pick them and eat them, but to each his own.

If anyone other than Adam is interested in a ping list on rural (part time, historical, and food) related topics, FRmail me, maybe I'll start one.

[cmsgop]

Sounds Cool! There is a Blueberry Farm 2miles away from me. I should stop by. Im a City boy who lives in the country now, 7 months so far and I love it!

[SamAdams76]

Research has shown that eating blueberries could help prevent cancer, slow down the ageing process, control urinary tract infections and help reduce cholesterol in the bloodstream. Other health benefits associated with blueberries is backed up by studies carried out in the US, Japan, France and other countries, and include:

• Cold preventive
• Detoxicant
• Anti-diabetic
• Anti-inflammatory
• Anti-allergic
• Eye problems
• Inflammatory joint disorders

The US Department of Agriculture has claimed that blueberries contain 50% more antioxidants than strawberries, 100% more than oranges and 400% more than broccoli and spinach.

Blueberries are low in fat, low in calories, high in vitamins A and C, high in dietary fibre, high in calcium, requires little sweetening.

[cmsgop]

Thats Impressive Sam. Looks like BB's for me.

[mombonn]

Blueberries are our friends. I just froze several bags of them last night!

My daughter, who lives in PA, was lamenting the absence of bluberries in her state of choice.

[zarf]

I was fortunate to spend a few summers raking blueberries in Down East Maine with the Pasamaquati indians. I met a young photographer, David Stess, who was doing a photojournal over a 10 year period on his raking experiences. He's become quite well known in Maine. His work, some of it which hangs in my home, is moving-defining the migrant experience and every time I eat the berries I look at those photos and think of all those doing that back breaking work..... with affection.

A photo of one of the blueberry rakers...

[FLAMING DEATH]

There's a place in WV called Dolly Sods. It's on top of a ridge over 4,000 feet in elevation. It is literally a piece of tundra right in the middle of the East Coast. At the end of it, a place called Bear Rocks, you can almost see forever...literally far into VA, our neighboring state.

Once a year, the place is almost overrun with wild blueberries. Visitors are free to pick and eat their fill.

The animals know about this too, and you can see every possible type of wildlife; deer, birds, bears and every creature imaginable feast on the blueberries.

People who study wildlife take advantage of this...they put up huge nets on the sides of the ridges and catch birds as they fly up the slopes. You can see red-tailed hawks and other interesting birds up close. They are banded there and released, but usually the people doing the catching are nice enough to let you get a good look at them before letting them go.

The whole ridge is crisscrossed with trails. You could walk for days and never see the same place twice.

There aren't any highways, only dirt roads, so you don't have the roar of traffic. At night, it is very dark, since there's no electricity on the entire mountain. You can see almost every star in the sky. My cousins from a more urban location insist on being on the ridgetop at night at least once every time they visit.

You can camp there primitively for free, or there's paid camping with some slightly more civilized facilities. On Red Creek, there's a natural waterslide that will carry you about 40 or 50 feet downstream. Be wary, the water usually doesn't get much more than 50 degrees, even in the summer.

And, within spitting distance, there's some of the best trout and smallmouth fishing to be had. Plus, endless opportunities for canoeing or even whitewater kayaking.

I'm starting to sound like an advertisement. Your post just got me to thinking, though.

Not really relavent to the topic, but still nice to talk about.

[FLAMING DEATH]

Oh, and another thing. The place is riddled with unexploded mortar shells.

It was used for artillery practice during WWII. So if you find one, don't touch it.

Check out these pictures...

Google image search..."Dolly Sods"

[breakem]

almost heaven

[FLAMING DEATH]

Yes it is. Except for the part about it being riddled with unexploded mortar shells.

[breakem]

and coal companies leveling off mountian tops

[norraad]

Our local S.J. u-pick has blueberry bushes that are 45 years old & going strong.

I didn't know they could live so long.

love the blue's

[planter]

Personally, I like to just bend over, pick them and eat them, but to each his own.

My preferred method as well. I have more blueberries than you can shake a stick at. The crop, and the berries themselves, gets larger with each passing year, except for the years that I burn of course. They are very near my house , so I'm able to gorge on them almost every day. My wife kids have to fend for themselves. Many years ago my family used to rake on the back barrens and ship them stateside. Unfortunately the barrens are now overgrown. However, it is of little consequence since the vast majority of the berries that I now have will rot on the bush. Oh well. Some day!

[fish hawk]

If you think blueberries are good, you got to try wild Huckleberries. Better in my opinion. I know they grow on the northwest coast but not sure where else.

[Intolerant in NJ]

Nice story - midway between Philadelphia and Atlantic City, we're surrounded by blueberry farms stretching for miles and miles - so many, in fact, that we're known as "The Blueberry Capital of the World" - at least that's what the Chamber of Commerce put on the sign right outside of town.....

[this_ol_patriot]

....wild Huckleberries

Yup, picked lots of them in NE Pa. when I was a kid, about half the size or less of your average store bought blueberry. Someone burned out the banks every few years to keep them nice. As kids we loved the "swampers" we found but Dad said they weren't as good, we liked them because they were bigger. We also ate Juneberries, Elderberries and Mulberries. Now only the birds eat them and purple poo on your windshield.

[djf]

Used to pick them in the Adirondacks. But the best berry is something that is rare on the west coast, what we used to call blackberries or blackcaps, the east coast standard black raspberry. What is called a "blackberry" on the west coast, we used to call "thimbleberries".

We used to get black raspberries as big as your thumb. Delicious.

Incidentally, almost all of the briar type berry plants are members of the ROSE family!!

[HiTech RedNeck]

I was surprised to learn that the cranberry and the blueberry are virtually the same plant. Why there isn't an intermediate variety with purple berries I don't know.

[185JHP]

The FreeRepublic of berries...