Every summer we picked berries on Blueberry Hill. Tiny berries, barely bigger than bee bees, but so full of flavor, it was like eating candy right off the bush. We sang as we picked. Loud choruses of “The Other Day I Met a Bear” and “There’s a Hole in the Bottom of the Sea” were enough to scare off any critters in the neighborhood.
Most of my pickins ended up in my tummy, but Mom somehow filled her bucket. At home, she emptied her pail straight into a sink full of salt water. What fun to run my fingers through the small, sweet marbles. Even the dozens of tiny worms floating to the surface did not keep me from sneaking a few more berries. It’s good protein and, besides, the ones with the worms are the juiciest!
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