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Booberries


A fond memory from childhood is going to an orchard near our home to pick mangoes using a long stick with a net on the end. My tiny frame could barely keep the stick steady but a gentle tug would drop juicy mangoes into the net. More recently, we've picked apples with Josh in Charlottesville. Last week was the first time we picked berries.

Our friends, "A&R", texted that they have a bumper crop of berries in their yard and that we should stop by to pick some. As far as I am concerned, that’s like offering sugar to a toddler, single malt to an Indian, and water to the thirsty. I am a bona fide blueberry addict. Our toddler buddy "Ana" re-introduced me to blueberries and now I eat several packets a week. So when A&R offered, ain’t no way I was going to refuse.

I donned my mask and headed over to their home with excitement. I didn’t know which bush to go to first! I settled on the blackberry bushes to quickly realize that the saying "blackberries are red when they are green" is true! The black ones fell off the vine with a soft nudge.

Next up were the blueberry bushes. Not one but several different varieties - big ones and little ones. All incredibly delicious. I picked or popped them in my mouth with dexterity until I realized that I was leaving the branches bare!

In their idyllic garden, amidst their berries and roses and squash and green beans, they pointed us to a passion fruit flower with its intriguing dancing-octopus-atop-a-jellyfish look!!

A&R, you are the best! Not just for growing these bushes bursting with flavors but also for letting a particularly greedy berry monster at your stash. And to little Ana who got me hooked on "booberries", thank you, sweetie! In your honor, next up is "pommeganet"!


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