Blueberry Picking

Good Wednesday morning!

NOTE TO JONI: Nope. You are absolutely correct. I was supposed to reveal the Barry Manilow back-up singer the Monday after Roxie's recital... because I was going to see her at the recital and have my picture taken with her. However, I forgot there were three different recitals. Her daughter danced in the recital before Roxie's, and as we were coming in the dressing room door, she and her daughter were literally running in the opposite direction. (On recital day, everyone runs. I don't know why. It's just something we do.) I called out, digging for my camera in my purse, but she was in a hurry, waved and went on her merry "Manilow" way.

Not to worry. I know where she lives... now. My goal is to have her picture (and identity) on my blog before July 1... with or without her permission. (Code for IF YOU DON'T SEE ME IN THE PICTURE AND SHE'S GETTING IN THE CAR IN HER DRIVEWAY, SHE PROBABLY DIDN'T KNOW I WAS TAKING HER PICTURE!)

Well, there it is! My June flag. I love the colors red and purple together. And I love watermelon. Nothing screams "SUMMER" like a watermelon, does it? I knew you were all wondering when I was going to show my June flag, so here it is!

This week has been VBS, pool, football practice, more VBS, etc. And it's only Wednesday morning. Thank goodness for National Game Night tonight to throw a little something different in the mix.

Okay. Okay. It's not an official "National" holiday. And I don't have the "power" to declare June 10 as National Game Night. Or do I? What are the rules concerning the declaration of a National Game Night, or National Blueberry Day, or National Pet the Cat Day? Who gets to decide what day (or night) becomes a national holiday or not? Does anyone know? (If I can't be arrested or fined or anything, I'm going to step out on a limb and make it official... June 10 is National Game Night. Let's see if the "National" police come and take me away!)

Childhood Memories - Part 3

When I was in elementary school, my playmates in the neighborhood were Curtis, his sister, Mona, Cindy, Pam, Beverly and her crew, Lee and Dennis. Every now and again in the summer, we would plan a camp out. Not a tent camp out. Not a camper camp out. But a "back of the pick-up truck" camp out.

We would fill the back of my Dad's pick-up truck with blankets, pillows, snacks, etc. as soon as he arrived home from work that day. We would have planned all day long the fun we would have telling ghost stories and sleeping under the stars in my driveway. It would be the MOST FUN EVER!

Finally, it was dark. We're talking about 8:00 p.m., and several of us would arrive and climb in the back of the truck. We would talk for a few minutes, jump out of the truck to catch lightning bugs, and then climb back in. We ate our snacks, and talked a little more.

Oops! Forgot the flashlights. Everyone ran home to get their own personal flashlight. Okay. Back into the truck. Time for ghost stories. And amazingly, the ghost stories were not any different from the ones we sit around the campfire and tell the kids to this day.

Uh, oh. We scared a couple of the younger guys. Two down, but four still in the back of the pick-up. More room. More comfortable. Everything was looking good. Another ghost story. We lost another one. And then there were three.

We decided the ghost stories were causing more harm than good, so we settled down to go to sleep under the stars. Crickets and frogs could be heard all around. The wind was whistling in the pines over our heads. No one wanted to admit they were more than a little uncomfortable in the back of a pick-up where any lunatic could come at any moment and lob off our heads.

Silently, we stared at the stars. No one was nodding off to sleep. All of a sudden, the whole truck shook. People were screaming and a loud clanging sound surrounded the truck. We sat straight up... the brave remaining threesome... and screamed our heads off. And then my Dad popped up over the tailgate of the truck. More screaming (LOTS more screaming). Children jumped over the sides of the truck and ran to their respective homes. Some of us made it to the bathroom before having an "accident," but not all.

Dad apologized and tried to get us to go back to our camp out, but it was too late. We were damaged for life! That, and the fact it was only 9:00 p.m. We were wide awake, and the idea of sitting outside in the back of the truck for another two or three hours until we really did fall asleep did not appeal to any of us.

Well, at least not until the next summer.

Blueberry Picking

Sometime between the middle of June and the first of July, The Blue Pumpkin in Warrior begins selling blueberries. If you call the owners, Max and Lydia Blackburn, at 647-2420, their message machine will have the dates the blueberries will be ready to be picked. They will also have information regarding days of the week they will be open and time of operation. If you have questions, you can leave your name and number, and they will return your call.

When you arrive, you receive a gallon bucket and walk down a trail to row after row of huge, beautiful blueberry bushes. The blueberries are $10 a gallon, and you can pick as many as you like. The bushes are the right size for small children (as young as 2 or 3) and adults. As you leave, Ms. Blackburn gives you a sheet of paper full of blueberry recipes and instructions for freezing.

This would be a great tradition to adopt for the summer... You could go home and make homemade blueberry treats each and every year.

To reach The Blue Pumpkin, travel I-65 North to Exit 282 (Warrior-Robbins) and turn left after you take the exit. Go 1/4 mile down the road, and you will see their sign on the left. They are located on Blackburn Lane.

Happy pickin'!

Have a good Wednesday. Tomorrow's date is the one I planned to share last week. I'm positive (ALMOST) I won't change my mind this week. Also, I have a few things going on in Weekend Family Fun you might be interested in reading.

Take care, and I'll talk to you tomorrow.