Butts Up

In the blueberry patch, that is. I have (more or less) permission to post this pic but I did not take it. Blueberry picking DNA missed me and I sat this expotition out. I love to go inland into Chippewa County but I don’t have the attention span for blueberry picking so I stayed back at the moomincabin and put a lasagne and some garlic bread loaves together.

I asked people to take butts up pics and send them to me. This is not always the posture for blueberry picking but it can happen but I suspect these photos were staged 🐸. I love them anyway.

Many mooooooons ago, I went on a blueberry picking trip with Lewie, Uncle Duke, Radical Betty and Uber KW. I was basically along for the ride because I wanted to spend time with UKW et al, not because I like to pick blueberries. Uncle Duke was CRAZY about picking blueberries and after about the fourth stop we had to kind of put our collective feet down and say something like, we are not stopping again. On that trip I got the song “I got my thrill on blueberry hill” into my head and it hasn’t ever really left me.

Other things I remember from that trip is when Lewie, a lifelong yooper, was going on and on about a cathouse in the small town of Raco. Radical Betty thought he was talking about a a a you know, whorehouse and she was wondering what the heck her childhood friend knew about a whorehouse. It turned out that he was talking about a place that stored bulldozers, which made much more sense given that it was Lewie. There was also something about carnivorous testicles but we won’t go there tonight.

And oh yeah. I got distracted and didn’t finish this post last night. I’m not sure I can count how many people were in the moomincabin living room but it was enough that we had to bring some of the deck chairs inside. Cousins of all degrees on both sides of the fam, friends, and significant others. The Commander would’ve loved this.

2 Responses to “Butts Up”

  1. Tonya Watkins Says:

    Brings back memories of when I used to pick blueberries at a huge blueberry farm in the summers so I could pay for school clothes. Belly bucket (coffee can strapped around the waist) then dumped into a big galvanized bucket to bring up to the straw boss to be weighed and my ticket punched. The bushes were high and provided shade, and there was very little butt-in-the-air! Unlike strawberries, you could pick low, medium, or high, so the back didn’t ache so bad! Listening to “Maggie May” all summer long. Got pretty sick of that song!

  2. Margaret Says:

    I have the same memories as Tonya, since we grew up in the same community. I was an excellent blueberry picker, and worked my up to berry field boss. I hated picking strawberries though-crouching, back aches, slugs and dirt everywhere. Ugh. It’s great that you all get together; I’m sure your mom would have loved that!!