Saturday, August 28, 2010
495: rush river blueberry picking
Last night, my darling husband spent two hours with me in baby-chaos, registering for all kinds of baby-shaped items, our eyes sleepy, a box o' crib bungeed into my trunk. He lugged that one hundred pound box out of the trunk and up the stairs, giving Kelly's ant comparison credence.
And this morning, Ryan woke me with this adorably wise plan to pick blueberries. Inside the car, I discovered he had filled up my tank with gas. Halfway to Maiden Rock, he said to me, "You're not terribly observant, are you?" Oh woe is the poet who cannot see the world so clearly. It turns out he took my car in and replaced all the tires--and there, none of the previous vibrations or shaking or car misalignment.
And now, I am winter-safe, full of blueberries. We brought three and a half pounds home, and I have plans for a crumble, muffins, freezing some to go with the raspberries that will become smoothies in winter. In Minnesota, it's all about winter-preparation. This one is going to be magical.