Since I had to work yesterday, I didn’t get to go to our Friday Farmers’ Market in Marshfield, so I set out today to find a couple of farm stands and buy vegetables and fruit for the week ahead. As I was driving down Route 123, I saw a sign that said, “Blueberries Next Right,” so I turned in the dirt driveway, parked my car, and walked up to where two people were sitting at a table covered with large cans. I had landed at Tree-Berry Farm and it was pick your own blueberries.
“What do I do?” I asked.
“Take a bucket, follow the signs, and then bring it back when you’re done picking and we’ll tell you what you owe.”
I learned I was picking highbush blueberries (I assume there must be a lowbush variety). There were rows and rows of bushes and about twenty of us out picking. I think I was the only one who wasn’t with a family. I filled my bucket about three-quarters full and went back to the table. He put the bucket on the scale and said, “You’ve got about two pounds. That will be four dollars and eighty cents.”
I didn’t tell him about the seven berries I ate in the field — the freshest I have ever had, but I did let him keep the change from a five.
From there, I drove a little farther into Scituate and found a farm stand without a name, but with some great native strawberries, summer squash, and zucchini. I picked up a quart of the berries and an arm load of squash.
“Nine sixty,” said the woman at the register as the man standing next to her bagged the squash.
It wa then I realized the other five I thought I had in my pocket had been spent at the store this morning when I made a quick dash to buy syrup for our waffles. I only had five ones in my pocket.
“I’ll have to put the berries back,” I said. “I don’t have as much money as I thought.”
“Oh, no,” said the man. “Take the berries with you. You’ll be back and you can bring the money then.”
I thanked them and drove home to fix lunch for my father-in-law and water my own garden. The tomatoes are still green but getting bigger, the chard is going strong, and I got one squash of my own this week and made squash croquettes.
There’s no great point here other than man, I had fun.
Peace,
Milton
“No great point” sometimes results in the best days, and the stories that are most important in our lives. Glad you had fun! I LOVE fresh produce like that.
Peace,
Hedwyg
Being trusted for the money is a great point in and of itself.
Sometimes fun is the point. It reads like a day’s adventure journey measured in produce.
And good that you were able to start the post with “Since I had to work yesterday”, even though not full-time yet.
Isn’t the miracle of this produce one of the great joys of summer?
And I can testify about your squash croquettes. Everybody, make these tonight!
Sounds like a cool day.
I got squash, because I got friends who got squash coming out of their ears. I’m making that recipe.
Any recommendations as to olive vs. vegetable oil? Which do you use?
Beth
I use canola oil for frying because it handles heat better and it’s cheaper.
Peace,
Milton
the best blueberries I ever had were picked off a bush while hiking in the ouachita national forest in Arkansas.
My God. Heaven.
And fun!