Uncle an' Aunty went blueberry pickin'. This time o' year, thar's a heap of U-Pick'em places fer to tomaters, strawberries and blueberries.
In this case the Blueberry Fella had come to Uncle's attention on account of Blueberry Fella needin' a consult wif' a pork rind expert. Thas' how come Uncle knowed about this extra purty organic farm. Well, it were pure delight to be out gleaning on a breezy May mornin'.....us an a hunnert other folks:
Did put me in mind of that famous painting, The Gleaners by Jean Francois Millet
Used to be a time --mayhap it's still done--when farmers would harvest the fields, then allow the poor to come in an' glean the overlooked fruit or grain.
Well, mercy, y'all, we took home 14 pounds of luscious berries! We wuz dreamin' of blueberry pancakes, muffins, jam, cobbler, smoothies, blueberries in salad wif'walnuts and goat cheese crumbled over romaine wif' a blueberry vinaigrette, blueberry lemon tarts, blueberries may soon be found in mah lemonade, an I'se workin' on a blueberry sangria. Please send along any inspiration ya' may have. Did I mention we hauled home 14 pounds??
Since we's out in the country, an' it be a holiday weekend, we made us a day of it. Nuthin' us'uns like better than a ramble down ole timey brick streets in a wee 1800s towns that history done by-passed.
Y'all ever do that? jes' ride around in yore buggy lookin' at how thangs were when yore great-grandparents were in they own prime?
Round heah thar's a few such hamlets that is still fightin' off "progress". Iffin' Aunty could talk Buffet out of a billion or so, I'd buy one of these gems--I mean, buy the whole township, appoint mahself mayor an' zoning' board, an' utility an' agriculture commissioner. Ain't no ultility company gonna haircut these live oaks jes' fer the convenience of the lineman.
After swoonin' over this gracious grand dame we went a winding down the lane to the neighbor village whar' some fix-ups wuz exuberant an' the owners is patriotic.
Looky heah at this blue painted sweetheart of a home --it's "downtown,"mere steps from the town hall what now serves 390 souls, though in yesteryear I reckon it wuz a metropolis of 1000.
It made me wanna write Anne of Blue Gables.
Jes' a meander down the road we found signs of past prosperity.
An' a little further on, along a quiet a moss draped county road, thar's a necklace of forgotten townships adorning the west side of a large Central Florida lake. Ain't this turn-of-the-century home a picture?? Look a little closer at its wrought iron fence. Reckon they'd sell it to me? Mebbe, but I woan ask, it looks perfect right whar' it be.
Ridin' these shady lanes, our memories began to work overtime. We growed up in Hog Town Creek, an' thar's many a small dot on the map up that-a-way what's still has a plenty of these post-bellum an' Victorian homesteads, most in disrepair. We used to think we'd git us one some day. T'was afore MouseWorld. Aunty would surely go back iffin' I could (I ain't called Antebellum fer nuthin', I reckon.) But, mercy, y'all know the drill....life moved us on.
After our reverie, we headed back to our own patch to process the blueberries. Uncle sauntered out to check on his crops...he's had a real go of turnin' the front forty into as farm of sorts--yep, this is zucchini grownin' a step away from roses.
and the beans is thriving against the hedge. I 'spect the city will soon shut us down fer farmin' wif'out a permit.
The bounty from Aunty's dog pen garden-- decently hidden from the front door-- is 'bout finished. Nuthin' left but herbs an peppers. Mebbe a few grape tomatoes.
We's had a grand weekend, an' a relaxed Memorial Day. To all the Veterans, we send heartfelt thanks on this day of recallin' how fragile our freedom is, an' all y'all done to make us the home of the free an' pray we's gonna be brave enough to keep a'holt of all that ya' preserved fer us.
Aunty is poppin' proud to thank her own Daddy, Pappy Cracker, who be one of the few Pearl Harbor Marines still celebratin' Memorial Day. He wuz a mere 16 that fateful day, a fella cleveah enough to fool the recruiters 'bout his age, an' fortuante enough to survive it. Thank you, Daddy.
Happy Memorial Day all!
Memorial Day post wif' a bit of history about how this celebration began.
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Posted by Aunty Belle at 10:37 AM