There's a bumper crop of wild blueberries this year. They're along the creek, in the woods, and along my street, at the edge of the lot next door. Two days ago I gathered some; this morning I gathered more, and I always leave some for the birds. In two days or so, I'll get more, and hopefully there will be heavy ziplocs in my freezer waiting to be made into jam.
Wild blueberries are smaller than the cultivated kind, and a little bit tart. I took a walk around and some are still blooming. They look like sparkleberries. Both look like lilies-of-the-valley, the flower for those born in May. My father planted them for me when I was born. They grew in a corner under the kitchen window. Every birthday, either my mother or father picked me a little nosegay. I love them. Can't grow them here, though. It's too hot. So here I have blueberries and sparkleberries to remind me that my birthday is not very far away.
Coming back from town today, around 3 p.m., with 50 lbs. of rice, 20 lbs. of pinto beans, Purina dog chow and a few other items, I was driving along a road that runs through planted pine forest in some areas, then pretty much native hardwood and scrub in others. A coyote, still in its winter coat dashed across the road right in front of me. You don't see that often. It vanished in the trees.
Rice is a dollar a pound. Pinto beans, not quite that. Purina has gone up at least $2.00 a sack at Sam's. I buy my rice (there will be no more Basmati at Sam's), at an oriental market. Gas is over $3.61 now.
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