The last several years -- 4, I think -- our family has picked blueberries on Father's Day weekend. For a couple years, we went on Sunday morning, but when we started going to church regularly, we switched to Saturday morning. Our normal routine was to get up while it was still dark, eat breakfast sandwiches in the car, and get to the blueberry farm right at 7:00 am as the sun was rising and the gates of the farm opened. That was usually the only cool time of the day, and it was nice that the crowd was thin that early in the day.
This year, the kids were at Gramma and Granddad's on Father's Day weekend. Allen and I spent that Saturday working on the neighborhood clean-up project, then we spent Sunday driving to Houston for my trip to Uganda. The weekend before that, we thought our only blueberry-time would be at the festival in Nacogdoches. About two days ago, I got an email from the blueberry farm that the berries were ripe and great for picking (10 on a scale of 1-10!). Additionally, the highs for today were supposed to be mid-80s. For ANY part of an East Texas summer, that is cool. For the end of July, it is almost unheard of.
We woke the kids up early, but not as early as usually for blueberry picking. They grumbled, but when they saw the adventure hats were being packed, they perked up a bit. Once they heard we were getting blueberries, they moved quite quickly. We got to the farm around 9:00 am, and enjoyed a couple hours of great picking on a cool day -- it got up to about 80-degrees about the time we were ready to leave.
It wasn't Father's Day weekend, but I'm really glad we got to do our blueberry picking!
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