The farm is Lone Pine Farm, and the only downside to going there is that they don’t advertise, and there is not much in the way of signage. Consequently, if you don’t know where it is, you have to ask someone who knows, and not everyone knows. I asked several people who had no idea where it was. One day after camp I told the kids we were going to search for it, and they weren’t happy about it, but you just can’t make everyone happy.
Lucky for us, there were signs, albeit small, non-descript handwritten ones, but signs, nonetheless. The farm was in full swing, so we reported back to mom and set aside a day to go pick. It was a good day, actually, because it was cloudy and not too hot. Blueberry picking is actually sort of fun, more so than strawberry picking because you can do it standing up, and better than apple picking because with apples, you end up with all these apples that you don’t know what to do with (waah-waah).
Either way, we picked like crazy, and everyone got into it. The plants were fabulous, filled with ripe, sweet berries, and we ended up with about 23 pounds. Is that crazy, or what? What’s even crazier is that we’ll (mom?) go through that in a matter of months, and thinking of going back and getting more. We had to pack it in early because it started to rain.
I am in awe of this guy’s blueberry bushes, they are amazing. Something to aspire to. Like R said, she’d be happy to have just one busy like this. One day.
Until then, thanks for reading.