Now I know exactly how Little Sal's mother felt in Blueberries For Sal as we went yesterday morning to our town's blueberry patch. I didn't know about this opportunity until Tim took the boys for a spin in the Jeep a few weeks back and drove down a dead end road. It ended with a gorgeous view and a sign that implied that town residents could pick berries. We joined a few other folks, but for the most part we had the hill to ourselves. Everyone took turns using the small blueberry rake I bought years ago at an antique shop, while Julia Ellen plopped herself in one spot and stripped the bushes in her vicinity clean before toddling over to another patch. We filled our little baskets full and in less than 30 minutes headed home to clean and gorge on wild Maine blueberries. It takes longer to pick out the leaves and unripe fruit than it does to scoop them up with the rake, but the reward to taking a huge mouthful at once is worth the work. Maggie gave a quart container to our builder, so for our little bit of work, many folks are having a delicious breakfast this morning.