Does anyone even believe in that superstitious crap in this day in age? If two different writing groups hadn’t challenged me to write about Friday the 13th I probably wouldn’t even have realized today was the day! I woke up to severe pain in my neck that swiftly traveled into my jaws. As I sat upright to get up, my eyes refused to focus. The pain was unbearable. Tears came to my eyes as I struggled to the bathroom. I took some medicine, warmed up my bed buddy in the microwave, and headed back to bed where I promptly threw up and waited for the mother of all migraines to pass.
When my cell phone rang around ten I was still sound asleep which isn’t like me on a Friday. It is pay day. Usually I am up early, figuring the bills, and planning the day. Not today. My migraine threw me a curve. As I answered the phone I realized with relief I was starting to feel better. Still things had to be done. Better to get up and get on with it than laze away in bed. Then I was overcome with an overwhelming craving for blueberries. I have never taken my kids to pick blueberries and despite the 90 degree heat I was game. When I was growing up my mom always took me to the blueberry ranch to pick without fail. When I was little I could be found hiding under the branches having my fill. As I grew older I realized that the quicker you picked and the less you ate the sooner you could go home. That was the mindset I explained to my kids.
I would not have thought there would have been anything in the world more annoying than listen to parents telling their kids….”Now pick the big blue ones!!” and the little tikes answering “Is this one blue enough?” To my disgust I found myself telling my kids the same thing, except I kept it short and sweet. Pick the big blue ones. If they are green, red, or croaked over, don’t pick them. Eat as many as you want, BUT unless you want to spend the whole day here I suggest you get busy picking, because when this bucket is full we are out of here! To my surprise, my kids went silently to work, occasionally popping a succulent sweet berry in their mouths but on the most part they worked at filling the bucket. Across the way one mother yelled “For the thousandth time, quit throwing the berries!” Meanwhile farther down the row a slew of teenage girls had descended on the blueberry patch from a couple of school buses. School buses in July? Yeah, you heard right and every single one of them wearing ankle length skirts. They sat between the bushes blocking the path texting, taking pictures of each other, and everything and anything EXCEPT picking blueberries!
When our bucket was overflowing with blueberries we attempted to make our way back through the sea of teenaged girls. They seemed amazed we had actually picked blueberries! Hells bells, I must be getting old but that was why I thought you came to a blueberry patch. You certainly didn’t come to sit on you’re a$$ in the dirt in ankle length skirts to play with your cell phones and take pictures of each other. If stepping over them wasn’t annoying enough, when we finally made it up to the barn to pay for our day’s take a slew of them were lined up with a few handfuls in each of their bags to have them weighed. Not separately, but all added together as a group. I waited, and fumed. I have to admit, having to wait while this rude pack of girls ordered the clerk to reweigh their few berries AGAIN because they lost track annoyed the living hell out of me.
Fortunately another person waited on us and we were soon on our way. While in the car on our way home my 6 year old piped up “Did you see them? They acted like a bunch of little kids while we acted like adults!! They were so annoying!! We acted better than they did!” I could hold myself silent no more and I giggled, then laughed right out loud. Coming from a 6 year old, that amused the living hell out of me. In my little world Friday the 13th is just another day in paradise until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.
When my cell phone rang around ten I was still sound asleep which isn’t like me on a Friday. It is pay day. Usually I am up early, figuring the bills, and planning the day. Not today. My migraine threw me a curve. As I answered the phone I realized with relief I was starting to feel better. Still things had to be done. Better to get up and get on with it than laze away in bed. Then I was overcome with an overwhelming craving for blueberries. I have never taken my kids to pick blueberries and despite the 90 degree heat I was game. When I was growing up my mom always took me to the blueberry ranch to pick without fail. When I was little I could be found hiding under the branches having my fill. As I grew older I realized that the quicker you picked and the less you ate the sooner you could go home. That was the mindset I explained to my kids.
I would not have thought there would have been anything in the world more annoying than listen to parents telling their kids….”Now pick the big blue ones!!” and the little tikes answering “Is this one blue enough?” To my disgust I found myself telling my kids the same thing, except I kept it short and sweet. Pick the big blue ones. If they are green, red, or croaked over, don’t pick them. Eat as many as you want, BUT unless you want to spend the whole day here I suggest you get busy picking, because when this bucket is full we are out of here! To my surprise, my kids went silently to work, occasionally popping a succulent sweet berry in their mouths but on the most part they worked at filling the bucket. Across the way one mother yelled “For the thousandth time, quit throwing the berries!” Meanwhile farther down the row a slew of teenage girls had descended on the blueberry patch from a couple of school buses. School buses in July? Yeah, you heard right and every single one of them wearing ankle length skirts. They sat between the bushes blocking the path texting, taking pictures of each other, and everything and anything EXCEPT picking blueberries!
When our bucket was overflowing with blueberries we attempted to make our way back through the sea of teenaged girls. They seemed amazed we had actually picked blueberries! Hells bells, I must be getting old but that was why I thought you came to a blueberry patch. You certainly didn’t come to sit on you’re a$$ in the dirt in ankle length skirts to play with your cell phones and take pictures of each other. If stepping over them wasn’t annoying enough, when we finally made it up to the barn to pay for our day’s take a slew of them were lined up with a few handfuls in each of their bags to have them weighed. Not separately, but all added together as a group. I waited, and fumed. I have to admit, having to wait while this rude pack of girls ordered the clerk to reweigh their few berries AGAIN because they lost track annoyed the living hell out of me.
Fortunately another person waited on us and we were soon on our way. While in the car on our way home my 6 year old piped up “Did you see them? They acted like a bunch of little kids while we acted like adults!! They were so annoying!! We acted better than they did!” I could hold myself silent no more and I giggled, then laughed right out loud. Coming from a 6 year old, that amused the living hell out of me. In my little world Friday the 13th is just another day in paradise until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.
Blueberrying! A Michigan tradition for sure. I won't be going this year because none of the kids are here and it's so much more fun with the kids. BUT I do remember the eating and picking thing NOT being a big problem for us. It's hot out in those patches and getting your pail full and getting out is the goal. At home, that's the fun part, cleaning and sorting and baking and saving some from the freezer to make the world famous Grandma Jo Blueberry pancakes with homemade blueberry syrup for breakfast the next morning.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the memory flash! :-)
Jo, you are welcome. I am pleased you enjoyed my post and the memory flash. The kids liked their first picking experience. The best part is the eating!! Those blueberry pancakes and syrup sound heavenly....YUM! Thank you for stopping by to read and for sharing your memories and comments! ♥
DeleteSorry about your migraine but glad it passed!!! As for going blueberry picking....well it's just easier to buy them at the grocery store. I don't do well in heat and humidity!! What a bunch of annoying teens though. At first when you said 'ankle length skirts' I automatically assumed you were gonna say they were Amish, till you mentioned the cell phones. lol And remember, Friday the 13th is only unlucky if you are a Knight Templar. ;D
ReplyDeleteJoJo, I have bought them for years but the kids wanted to have the experience and they thought it was fun. These girls weren't Amish, that is for sure. Everyone of them had a cell phone. Thank you for stopping by to read and for your kind comments!♥
DeleteI've never picked anything I'm afraid. But Hubby often talks about picking strawberries as a kid when he lived in the UK. Sounds like fun actually and probably a great thing to do as a family.
ReplyDeleteBodacious, my kids really had fun doing it. The more people you have to help the quicker you can get the job accomplished. Thank you for stopping by to read and for your comments!♥
DeleteUntil I moved to the big city of Grand Rapids, Michigan...I picked from Spring to Fall - every berry, mushroom, and veggie I could find. I enjoy picking. It bring you closer to whomever you travel there with. Fun!
ReplyDeleteHumor after 50, it is fun and very satisfying to fill a bucket. Thank you for stopping by to read and for your kind comments! ♥
DeleteI enjoyed reading your post of Friday the 13th because I'm not really superstitious about it. In fact, it's pretty special to me since I first became a mother on Friday, the 13th. (We were expecting the birth on the 31st but, of course, she didn't yet know her numbers.) That was a wonderful day for me because of my dreams of being a mother came true.
ReplyDeleteBetty, that is so cool! Thank you for stopping by to read and for sharing what Friday the 13th means to you! ♥
DeleteMy hubby was born Friday the 13th and we also were married Friday the 13th. The day holds no fear for us... LOL
ReplyDeleteI am so sorry to hear about your migraine. I hope you don't get those often. I've had only 3 in my life and I hope to never have another one...
Darlene, lately I have been getting migraines about every other day. I hate them and they pretty much render me completely useless. Thank you for stopping by and for sharing what a special day Friday the 13th is for you! ♥
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