My Mother Taught Me: The Blueberry Lesson

It is blueberry time at our house. They usually begin to get ripe during the last week of June and proceed through most of July. This year they are about a week ahead of schedule. [Last year we had none due to a late freeze after they had bloomed.] They need to be picked ever couple of days. Two hours of picking renders well over a gallon and that doesn't even get half of them.

So far we have picked three or four gallons. Cheryl made a wonderful pie. She has also decided to make blueberry jam; so far she has made four batches (about a gallon total). As I write, there is over a gallon of just-picked berries draining in the sink. I will freeze and vacuum-seal a few gallons before it is over. We have given some away. A few of our friends will come and pick some for themselves and for some elderly friends and members of our congregation. My sister Shirley may come pick a few.

Every year while I sweat and pick I keep remembering one of the last lessons my mother taught me. Dad gave me my bushes (off-shoots from his) the year we bought our house. Momma told me what to expect. She said, "Son it will be a couple of years before they bear, but once they start expect more and more every year. The first year you will be excited about the handful you will pick and eat. The next year you should get enough for a pie or a cobbler. The next year you will be thrilled to put a bunch in the freezer to use during the year. The next, you will have more than you need and be so happy to give some away and see the joy people have in your gift. The next you will invite people to come pick all they want, but they won't and you will wonder why. The next you will make the same offer and you will learn to be content to let the birds have all they want. Finally, you will start daydreaming about cutting the bushes down, but you won't."

Once again, Momma knew what she was talking about. She died the next spring, long before the blueberries got ripe. When Dad died a few years later, there were still gallons of blueberries Momma had put in the freezer.

By the way, Dad had an equally insightful but far more brief lesson. "Son, one bush will produce about all one family can use, but you will need two kinds of berries for them to produce well. How many do you want? You can have as many as you want." I didn't listen and took eight or ten. They all lived. Anybody want some blueberry bushes?