So says Uber Kayak Woman when she comes across a blueberry bush. She has inherited a bit more of the berry-picking DNA than her cousin KW, aka yer favo-rite blahgger. I guess she got it from Grandberry, our grandaddy. He was a champion berry picker.

We didn’t really call him Grandberry as a rule. We called him Grandaddy. But one afternoon when he returned from a wild strawberry picking expotition, he showed his bucket of berries to Radical Betty and some of his other children and grandchildren. Radical Betty and a few others had spent the afternoon indulging in some kind of adult beverage, and she exclaimed, “Look at all the strawdaddies that Grandberry picked!”

Like me, I don’t think Radical Betty got much of the berry picking DNA. But she was a really good sport about just about everything (well, maybe not politicians and real estate developers and a few other baddies) and she could be up for the occasional blueberry picking expotition.

The blueberries are starting to get ripe here at the moominbeach and I have decided I am going to make blueberry pancakes tomorrow morning (and bacon) or die trying. Fortunately I have the help of some others who are, well, better blueberry pickers. We’re picking them in front of the moomincabin. And we’re picking them in front of Radical Betty’s. I know she would want us to use her berries. Although I think she would also want us to leave some for the birds and beasties. I do not think the Grinchie will care if we pick there. He certainly won’t be picking them. I do not think he inherited much of that DNA either. But he MAY benefit from a few pancakes. And bacon.

This entry was posted on Monday, July 12th, 2010 at 4:00 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.