For the last nine days Cheryl has been in a cabin in North Carolina writing her lectures for the Smythe Lecture Series that she will present at Columbia Theological Seminary in a couple of weeks. She did drive home for a committee meeting today. And she will pack up and come home later tonight or tomorrow morning. I drove over on two ocassions to enjoy an evening meal, a walk with her through the forest, and just listen to the sounds of nature. She has been in a beautiful and restful location with a stream rushing by just beneath the deck.
This blog is a site to keep friends and family up to date on the Jackie and Cheryl Johns Family. For those who might be interested in my musings, visit my other site "Jackie Speaks" at http://jackiespeaks.blogspot.com/ There is a link in my blog list below.
Monday, September 29, 2008
September Update
September is rapidly coming to an end. It has been a very full month. The first ten days were lost in an accreditation report. The following ten days or so were given to writing follow-up reports to the Seminary administration and trying to catch up on other Seminary work and church work. I took a little time to purge my system by starting a new blog.

For the last nine days Cheryl has been in a cabin in North Carolina writing her lectures for the Smythe Lecture Series that she will present at Columbia Theological Seminary in a couple of weeks. She did drive home for a committee meeting today. And she will pack up and come home later tonight or tomorrow morning. I drove over on two ocassions to enjoy an evening meal, a walk with her through the forest, and just listen to the sounds of nature. She has been in a beautiful and restful location with a stream rushing by just beneath the deck.
For the last nine days Cheryl has been in a cabin in North Carolina writing her lectures for the Smythe Lecture Series that she will present at Columbia Theological Seminary in a couple of weeks. She did drive home for a committee meeting today. And she will pack up and come home later tonight or tomorrow morning. I drove over on two ocassions to enjoy an evening meal, a walk with her through the forest, and just listen to the sounds of nature. She has been in a beautiful and restful location with a stream rushing by just beneath the deck.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
New Blog
For those who might be interested I have started a new blog Jackie Speaks, where I will express my thoughts. It will be all words and no pictures. My first essay is on why I am a Republican.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Funeral Arrangements
Several have asked about the funeral arrangements for Cheryl's Aunt Dot. They are as follows:
Tusday
3:00 P.M.
Pelzer Church of God
203 Highway 20 N, Pelzer, SC 29669
(864) 947-6411
Tusday
3:00 P.M.
Pelzer Church of God
203 Highway 20 N, Pelzer, SC 29669
(864) 947-6411
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Prayer Request
Saturday, August 23, 2008
New Student Retreat
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Faculty Retreat
We returned last evening from our annual fall faculty retreat (Wednesday through Friday). This year we went to Fall Creek Falls. I took both cameras, unfortunately I had failed to reinsert the memory card on my Canon Rebel and didn't realize this untill I got home and tried to upload the great photos I thought I had taken.
By the way, I have no idea why we call these "retreats." They're not "advances" either. I would not exactly say "gulag" (at least not in public). How about "work-camp?"
Drs. Ayo Adewua, Terry Johns, Cheryl, and Kim Alexander
By the way, I have no idea why we call these "retreats." They're not "advances" either. I would not exactly say "gulag" (at least not in public). How about "work-camp?"
Monday, August 11, 2008
Alethea & Family visit
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Obama & McCain
This summer I posted a couple of book reviews on Face Book, one by Obama and the other by McCain. Here they are.
Dreams from My Father: A Story of Race and Inheritance (Paperback) by Barack Obama
I confess I read this book because I wanted to prepare myself for a possible (probable?) Obama presidency. I had (have) no intentions of voting for him. That is a matter of political/social philosophy. [I am a compassionate conservative.]
I found the book a compelling but laborious read. It is the autobiography of a biracial child seeking to find and claim his identity. I found myself deeply touched by his struggles and impressed with his method of social engagement as well as his philosophical/theological understanding of self-identification (our identities flow from the stories of our families).
In terms of style, the author often gets lost in the details. Writing shortly after graduating from law school, the book often reads as if he is trying to prove his case by drowning the reader in minutia of various scenes from his life. It stretches his credibility to expect the reader believe he has an accurate memory of the details of relatively minor events that happened years in the past.
The general tone of the book is that of an amateur social psychologist attempting to interpret the world in which he has grown up. While I found his accounts of how he experienced life engaging and believable and I found his attempts to describe and interpret the motives of those close to him insightful, his broader social analysis lacked the credibility of a trained social psychologist.
In the end, I like the Barack Obama I found in these pages. He appears open, honest, highly intelligent, and seasoned in the quest for meaning. Yet, I kept hoping he would arrive at a place of solid self-identity. Instead, I came to the end of the book appreciating the journey he has taken while hoping he continues. As a pastor, I want to walk with him on that journey. Unfortunately, my impression is that he (at the time of this writing – and I assume at the present since the edition I read was recently revised) still does not have a solid grasp of who he is and where he belongs in our modern world. I wish him well; I am not comfortable with the idea of someone serving in the office of President of the United States because it is the next stop on a journey of self-discovery.
Worth the Fighting For: The Education of an American Maverick, and the Heroes Who Inspired Him (Paperback) by John McCain
I read this book out of a sense of responsibility; this fall I plan to vote for John McCain for the highest political office in the world. I should have a good idea of who he is or at least who he wants us to think he is. This volume (400 plus pages) was completed shortly after he lost the Republican nomination for President in 2000 and was first published in 2002. It was co-authored by Mark Salter.
Like most political tomes it is long and laborious, full of excruciating details of political triumphs and failures. The full title partially reflects the author’s intent of chronicling his political career, “Worth Fighting For: The Education of an American Maverick, and the Heroes Who Inspired Him.” The premise is to weave together the major events of McCain’s political career with brief character driven narratives of key figures (all are men, representing differing political views, with some fictional literary characters included) who have directly or indirectly influenced him. The portrait that unfolds is that of a man committed to the ideals of courage, honor, truthfulness, and loyalty. Above all McCain wants to be known as a patriot for the greatest nation to ever exist, a nation worth fighting for.
The sermon woven throughout the text culminates in chapter 10-B “A Happier Life in Every Way” where the life of his favored hero, Teddy Roosevelt, is reviewed. Roosevelt exemplifies McCain’s view of the great man, someone who, although flawed, overcomes weaknesses, aggressively confronts injustice, and steadfastly promotes a noble cause for humanity. Above all Roosevelt believes in the manifest moral destiny of the USA to lead the world into true democracy. Thus, McCain’s ideal man is someone who fights for what he believes in, and McCain, like Teddy, believes in the United States of America and the ideals upon which the nation was formed. Unfortunately, he does not explicate those ideals from the vantage point of the founders of the nation; instead he only looks through the lens of his twentieth century heroes.
One of the interesting traits of the book is McCain’s incessant portrayal of his own character flaws and mistakes in judgment. He draws upon his heroes to identify his own personal and political failings and to the find the best route out of them. Thus the “hidden agenda” of the book appears to be that of a man who wants others to know him for who he truly is and who he wants to be. It is as if you can hear his subconscious pleading, “I am who I am, I am not yet a great man, but no one has ever tried harder than me to become one.” In the words of the noted developmental psychologist Erik Erickson, McCain appears to be a man striving to enter the final phase of his life with a strong sense of integrity rather than despair.
My greatest concern about this person who would be president is that he fails to recognize the need to integrate his fractured self into his vision of greatness. For instance, when chronicling his visit to the cell where he had been kept prisoner in the Hanoi Hilton he notes that he felt no emotion, “the past is past.” He obviously sees this stoicism as an honorable character trait. After all, one of his heroes is a (North) Vietnamese diplomat. As a pastor and spiritual counselor I would encourage the Senator to let go of the faulty goal of conquering and forgetting past suffering and rather to more fully integrate his past suffering into his personal identity. (How did years of torture form him rather than just inform him?) Perhaps, the greatest lessons we can learn from pain are not how to avoid it or use it, but rather what it says about who we are and how it has shaped us. This might prove beneficial in helping him conquer his flaws rather than merely temper and utilize them. But this process would require a greater dependence on God than McCain’s writings indicate he is willing; references to God or even religious faith are virtually absent from this book.
As the book closes McCain muses about the twilight of his political career, proposing he probably has had his last romp in the limelight of national politics. This makes the text, which I suspect began as an apology for the philosophical roadmap for the McCain presidency planned to begin in 2001 (e.g., campaign finance reform), read more like a never ending eulogy. Perhaps a revised edition of the book will include a new hero, a prototype of political resurrections.
And, Yes I still plan to vote for him!
Dreams from My Father: A Story of Race and Inheritance (Paperback) by Barack Obama
I confess I read this book because I wanted to prepare myself for a possible (probable?) Obama presidency. I had (have) no intentions of voting for him. That is a matter of political/social philosophy. [I am a compassionate conservative.]
I found the book a compelling but laborious read. It is the autobiography of a biracial child seeking to find and claim his identity. I found myself deeply touched by his struggles and impressed with his method of social engagement as well as his philosophical/theological understanding of self-identification (our identities flow from the stories of our families).
In terms of style, the author often gets lost in the details. Writing shortly after graduating from law school, the book often reads as if he is trying to prove his case by drowning the reader in minutia of various scenes from his life. It stretches his credibility to expect the reader believe he has an accurate memory of the details of relatively minor events that happened years in the past.
The general tone of the book is that of an amateur social psychologist attempting to interpret the world in which he has grown up. While I found his accounts of how he experienced life engaging and believable and I found his attempts to describe and interpret the motives of those close to him insightful, his broader social analysis lacked the credibility of a trained social psychologist.
In the end, I like the Barack Obama I found in these pages. He appears open, honest, highly intelligent, and seasoned in the quest for meaning. Yet, I kept hoping he would arrive at a place of solid self-identity. Instead, I came to the end of the book appreciating the journey he has taken while hoping he continues. As a pastor, I want to walk with him on that journey. Unfortunately, my impression is that he (at the time of this writing – and I assume at the present since the edition I read was recently revised) still does not have a solid grasp of who he is and where he belongs in our modern world. I wish him well; I am not comfortable with the idea of someone serving in the office of President of the United States because it is the next stop on a journey of self-discovery.
Worth the Fighting For: The Education of an American Maverick, and the Heroes Who Inspired Him (Paperback) by John McCain
I read this book out of a sense of responsibility; this fall I plan to vote for John McCain for the highest political office in the world. I should have a good idea of who he is or at least who he wants us to think he is. This volume (400 plus pages) was completed shortly after he lost the Republican nomination for President in 2000 and was first published in 2002. It was co-authored by Mark Salter.
Like most political tomes it is long and laborious, full of excruciating details of political triumphs and failures. The full title partially reflects the author’s intent of chronicling his political career, “Worth Fighting For: The Education of an American Maverick, and the Heroes Who Inspired Him.” The premise is to weave together the major events of McCain’s political career with brief character driven narratives of key figures (all are men, representing differing political views, with some fictional literary characters included) who have directly or indirectly influenced him. The portrait that unfolds is that of a man committed to the ideals of courage, honor, truthfulness, and loyalty. Above all McCain wants to be known as a patriot for the greatest nation to ever exist, a nation worth fighting for.
The sermon woven throughout the text culminates in chapter 10-B “A Happier Life in Every Way” where the life of his favored hero, Teddy Roosevelt, is reviewed. Roosevelt exemplifies McCain’s view of the great man, someone who, although flawed, overcomes weaknesses, aggressively confronts injustice, and steadfastly promotes a noble cause for humanity. Above all Roosevelt believes in the manifest moral destiny of the USA to lead the world into true democracy. Thus, McCain’s ideal man is someone who fights for what he believes in, and McCain, like Teddy, believes in the United States of America and the ideals upon which the nation was formed. Unfortunately, he does not explicate those ideals from the vantage point of the founders of the nation; instead he only looks through the lens of his twentieth century heroes.
One of the interesting traits of the book is McCain’s incessant portrayal of his own character flaws and mistakes in judgment. He draws upon his heroes to identify his own personal and political failings and to the find the best route out of them. Thus the “hidden agenda” of the book appears to be that of a man who wants others to know him for who he truly is and who he wants to be. It is as if you can hear his subconscious pleading, “I am who I am, I am not yet a great man, but no one has ever tried harder than me to become one.” In the words of the noted developmental psychologist Erik Erickson, McCain appears to be a man striving to enter the final phase of his life with a strong sense of integrity rather than despair.
My greatest concern about this person who would be president is that he fails to recognize the need to integrate his fractured self into his vision of greatness. For instance, when chronicling his visit to the cell where he had been kept prisoner in the Hanoi Hilton he notes that he felt no emotion, “the past is past.” He obviously sees this stoicism as an honorable character trait. After all, one of his heroes is a (North) Vietnamese diplomat. As a pastor and spiritual counselor I would encourage the Senator to let go of the faulty goal of conquering and forgetting past suffering and rather to more fully integrate his past suffering into his personal identity. (How did years of torture form him rather than just inform him?) Perhaps, the greatest lessons we can learn from pain are not how to avoid it or use it, but rather what it says about who we are and how it has shaped us. This might prove beneficial in helping him conquer his flaws rather than merely temper and utilize them. But this process would require a greater dependence on God than McCain’s writings indicate he is willing; references to God or even religious faith are virtually absent from this book.
As the book closes McCain muses about the twilight of his political career, proposing he probably has had his last romp in the limelight of national politics. This makes the text, which I suspect began as an apology for the philosophical roadmap for the McCain presidency planned to begin in 2001 (e.g., campaign finance reform), read more like a never ending eulogy. Perhaps a revised edition of the book will include a new hero, a prototype of political resurrections.
And, Yes I still plan to vote for him!
Gloom at the Assembly
Well, I have gone from elation over the elections to despair over the deliberations. We ended the General Council session today considering an item to allow women to serve on the Church and Pastor's Council of the local church. In spite of some clear and some passionate speaches in favor of the move (with equally passionate, if ill-informed, speaches against it), the motion failed by 9 votes out of about a thousand cast.
I was depressed by the speaches against the motion, one by a long time friend. Several represented careful reasoning but misguided exegesis -- my friend's and others. The truth is you can find a "scholar" to defend almost any position. It is especially grievious when the argument has the air of academic appeal, i.e., "the Greek word means" and the scholars quoted are fron traditions that are openly anti-Pentecostal.
I was further depressed by the process. The vote was taken but before the tellers report was given a member rose to complain his electronic key pad did not work. The moderator called for another vote with each member having access to a working key pad. The problem is that many members had already left the floor; we were past the scheduled time for adjournment.
I was depressed by the speaches against the motion, one by a long time friend. Several represented careful reasoning but misguided exegesis -- my friend's and others. The truth is you can find a "scholar" to defend almost any position. It is especially grievious when the argument has the air of academic appeal, i.e., "the Greek word means" and the scholars quoted are fron traditions that are openly anti-Pentecostal.
I was further depressed by the process. The vote was taken but before the tellers report was given a member rose to complain his electronic key pad did not work. The moderator called for another vote with each member having access to a working key pad. The problem is that many members had already left the floor; we were past the scheduled time for adjournment.
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
Assembly News
I am seldom thrilled at the General Assembly. I have been this year. The General Council of Ordained Bishops has acted historically. For the first time ever the Council has nominated an African American (Wallace Sibley) to serve on the Executive Committee of the denomination. Also, for the first time the Council has nominated an Hispanic (Victor Pegan) to serve in a top position (Assistant Director of World Missions).
What few people know is that since I became member of the General Council in 1984 I have practiced a personal policy of voting almost exclusively for minorities and internationals on every ballot where I could. Typically, this meant I would vote for them on the first two ballots after which the body would vote to limit the list to the top names.
What few people know is that since I became member of the General Council in 1984 I have practiced a personal policy of voting almost exclusively for minorities and internationals on every ballot where I could. Typically, this meant I would vote for them on the first two ballots after which the body would vote to limit the list to the top names.
Monday, August 04, 2008
San Antonio
Quick update: I got home from Orlando Wednesday evening. On Thurday we had a faculty meeting in the morning and Cheryl went to South Carolina in the afternoon. On Saturday I mowed the yard, Cheryl's nephew Josh and his girlfriend arrived for a visit, Cheryl came home, and I cooked a great meal. Sunday was church (morning and evening with some pastoral counseling in between. We got up at 3 this morning, got dressed, rushed to Knoxville, and flew here to San Antonio. Cheryl responded to a paper at the educator's conference while I waited in line (over two hours)to register for the General Assembly.
It is hot in San Antonio!
It is hot in San Antonio!
Monday, July 28, 2008
Orlando
Yesterday, I flew to Orlando to attend a conference on accreditation. My first flight was canceled (Thanks USAir). I ended up flying to Houston Texas in route to Orlando. I got to my hotel after 11:00 P.M.
There is not much to report unless you are interested in Quality Enhancement in higher education.
There is not much to report unless you are interested in Quality Enhancement in higher education.
Friday, July 25, 2008
St. George
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Monday, July 21, 2008
Vacation Begins
We have begun a vacation on St George Island with Karisa and Johnmark. It is for me a working vacation as I have to work on accreditation issues. No pictures yet.
Last week Camdyn stayed with us. We met her parents in Knoxville on Friday (See the pictures below). They where on their way to vacation with Justin's family on the Outter Banks of North Carolina.
Karisa & Johnmark arrived in Cleveland Saturday morning around 4:00 A.M. We arrived here around 11:00 P.M.




Last week Camdyn stayed with us. We met her parents in Knoxville on Friday (See the pictures below). They where on their way to vacation with Justin's family on the Outter Banks of North Carolina.
Karisa & Johnmark arrived in Cleveland Saturday morning around 4:00 A.M. We arrived here around 11:00 P.M.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Alethea, Camdyn & Charlie Visit
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Slimed
Sunday, July 06, 2008
My Father Taught Me: "And That Ain't Hear-say"
Dad on his 65th birthday with his oldest full brother, George.

In his youth, my father was known to enjoy a night out drinking and fighting. Usually he was there to make sure his brother Woodrow got home safe. When he married my mother she told him he could bring all the liquor home he wanted as long as it was inside of him. He would later say he decided if he couldn't drink at home he didn't want to drink. I can remember seeing him have a few beers when I was four or five, and he kept the same fifth of whiskey "for the croup" hidden in the cupboard until I was ten or eleven. I am thankful I never saw him drunk. My memories are of a strong, self-controlled, god-like figure.
I am not certain how my dad broke free from an early pattern of drunkenness. It was a systemic sickness both in his family and in the society in which he grew up. Young men went out on Friday nights to get drunk and fight. Many of them became alcoholics. His deliverance came long before his salvation and was of course the grace of God working largely through my mother's prayers and influence. But the words of my grand-parents also left their mark.
Dad often told two brief stories that clearly had an impact on him. First and perhaps most powerful were the words of his mother. "One night Woodrow and I came in so drunk we could hardly get up the front steps. Ma met us at the door and said, "If anybody ever raised two fools I sure did."
Another indelible mark came from his father. My grandfather, Albert "Abb" Johns, lost his first wife with two small children in the home. He married my grandmother and had seven more children. Somewhere along the way he became a heavy drinker and fighter. At least until he had his first stroke while my dad was still young. "One night Woodrow and I came in from an evening of drinking. As we lay on our bed Pa shuffled by, looked in and said "You boys can mess with that stuff if you want to, but sooner or later it will get the best of you; And that ain't hear-say."
I have seen enough drunks in my life; happy drunks who would give away everything they owned just to be loved, angry drunks who hate themselves so much they just want to hurt and be hurt and so they fight. I remember the slurred speech, the drool, the vomit. The stench is unforgettable. None of them set out to be alcoholics. They just wanted to have a little fun, to feel better for a while, to just fit in. Sooner or later it just got the best of them.

In his youth, my father was known to enjoy a night out drinking and fighting. Usually he was there to make sure his brother Woodrow got home safe. When he married my mother she told him he could bring all the liquor home he wanted as long as it was inside of him. He would later say he decided if he couldn't drink at home he didn't want to drink. I can remember seeing him have a few beers when I was four or five, and he kept the same fifth of whiskey "for the croup" hidden in the cupboard until I was ten or eleven. I am thankful I never saw him drunk. My memories are of a strong, self-controlled, god-like figure.
I am not certain how my dad broke free from an early pattern of drunkenness. It was a systemic sickness both in his family and in the society in which he grew up. Young men went out on Friday nights to get drunk and fight. Many of them became alcoholics. His deliverance came long before his salvation and was of course the grace of God working largely through my mother's prayers and influence. But the words of my grand-parents also left their mark.
Dad often told two brief stories that clearly had an impact on him. First and perhaps most powerful were the words of his mother. "One night Woodrow and I came in so drunk we could hardly get up the front steps. Ma met us at the door and said, "If anybody ever raised two fools I sure did."
Another indelible mark came from his father. My grandfather, Albert "Abb" Johns, lost his first wife with two small children in the home. He married my grandmother and had seven more children. Somewhere along the way he became a heavy drinker and fighter. At least until he had his first stroke while my dad was still young. "One night Woodrow and I came in from an evening of drinking. As we lay on our bed Pa shuffled by, looked in and said "You boys can mess with that stuff if you want to, but sooner or later it will get the best of you; And that ain't hear-say."
I have seen enough drunks in my life; happy drunks who would give away everything they owned just to be loved, angry drunks who hate themselves so much they just want to hurt and be hurt and so they fight. I remember the slurred speech, the drool, the vomit. The stench is unforgettable. None of them set out to be alcoholics. They just wanted to have a little fun, to feel better for a while, to just fit in. Sooner or later it just got the best of them.
Saturday, July 05, 2008
Monday, June 30, 2008
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?
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?
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