Summer: It's on.

In various parts of the country, the talk is that summer is almost here. In Houston, we've been in the clutches of summer for over a month now. One of the advantages of our warm climate is June berry picking. This year the berries are incredible: plentiful, plump, and oh so juicy sweet.

Last weekend, we set out early for our favorite spot: Moorhead's Blueberry Farm in Conroe. We were all dressed, fed, and in the car by 8 am, a record for us with no plane to catch. Unfortunatly, there was a terrible traffic jam on the beltway. We were stuck for over an hour while the sun got higher and hotter. Our trusty iphones revealed the road closure was due to an "incident" which was not a wreck or construction closure.

The "Incident"

How does one explain a suicidal person to a three year old? We settled on "the man is sick and doesn't realize what he's doing." That was reasonably accurate, right?

Finally, after some lengthy time in the car, we arrived. There was a wonderful breeze to combat the heat. Unfortunately, that breeze didn't penetrate the bushes very well. I can't get over Texas blueberry bushes. This is one instance that the adage is true: some things really are bigger in Texas. These plants are far more like small trees than the ground hugging bushes up north. Of course, they also benefit from intentional farming and agricultural protection because they aren't wild bushes. Way easier to pick and without the burden of black flies.

Emery wasn't too sure what this business was about but did her best to grab whatever there was to grab. She has an overactive grab-nabber.


Can you feel the heat? The poor kid was soaked.


Blue teeth and an empty bucket.

Good thing they don't weigh the kids coming and going. Although, we were careful to not repeat past mistakes and didn't let him go too nuts.

8.5 pounds of berries: I thought it would be more.

Easier picking means we get more berries and then I can afford to be generous with the number of ways I use them. A pie calls for four cups and we brought home about five pies worth. That is five circles of flaky and oozy purple heaven.

Yum.

Last week we received a picture of my mom in an email about to eat a lobster. I sent them this back in response: "I see your lobster and I raise you one blueberry pie." Now if only the two could come together... We could all die of epicurean delight.