Of course this isn't a very insightful comment, but the mention of blueberries in your lovely poem made me think of something I love to be reminded of.
One day I was raking up leaves all day with my grandmother in her yard. She got sick of it and wanted to stop sooner than she did, and back in the house she remarked that when she closed her eyes to go to bed she'd be seeing blueberries. She must have seen the puzzled look on my face, so she explained the expression.
What she meant was she had been looking at leaves all day, so much so that she wouldn't be able to purge them from her mind's eye for a while. Which was analogous to
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i'm excited because for the first time in my life i live in an area where blueberries grow (i don't think they grew in chicago, but it's a city so who knows). your grandmother and co. tromping into unowned field and picking blueberries all day reminds me of august here. blackberries grow like weeds (there's a lovely description of the character of blackberries in the northwest in the beginning of tom robbin's still life with woodpecker). i set out on my bike and look for back roads that lead to paths and dirt roads so i can pick the berries that aren't assaulted by car farts all day.
for weeks last summer i'd spend a few hours a day harvesting the messy, finger-staining berries. cobblers, pies (i make the best nectarine, blackberry), jam, cakes and then freeze the rest. we're just running out of the frozen berries from last summer... only a couple months left.
but the best, by far, are huckleberries. oh, what a swoonable berry.
do you listen to [Seattle resident] Laura Love? (you should! everyone should!) I keep hearing this song [by her] in my head about her and her friend going down to Oregon and checking out the nature there. She's a big environmentalist.
"two girls from SeaWa on vacay... look at the chum and forget about the weather. Oregon grape and the Sitka spruce!"
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One day I was raking up leaves all day with my grandmother in her yard. She got sick of it and wanted to stop sooner than she did, and back in the house she remarked that when she closed her eyes to go to bed she'd be seeing blueberries. She must have seen the puzzled look on my face, so she explained the expression.
What she meant was she had been looking at leaves all day, so much so that she wouldn't be able to purge them from her mind's eye for a while. Which was analogous to ( ... )
Reply
i'm excited because for the first time in my life i live in an area where blueberries grow (i don't think they grew in chicago, but it's a city so who knows). your grandmother and co. tromping into unowned field and picking blueberries all day reminds me of august here. blackberries grow like weeds (there's a lovely description of the character of blackberries in the northwest in the beginning of tom robbin's still life with woodpecker). i set out on my bike and look for back roads that lead to paths and dirt roads so i can pick the berries that aren't assaulted by car farts all day.
for weeks last summer i'd spend a few hours a day harvesting the messy, finger-staining berries. cobblers, pies (i make the best nectarine, blackberry), jam, cakes and then freeze the rest. we're just running out of the frozen berries from last summer... only a couple months left.
but the best, by far, are huckleberries. oh, what a swoonable berry.
Reply
do you listen to [Seattle resident] Laura Love? (you should! everyone should!) I keep hearing this song [by her] in my head about her and her friend going down to Oregon and checking out the nature there. She's a big environmentalist.
"two girls from SeaWa on vacay... look at the chum and forget about the weather. Oregon grape and the Sitka spruce!"
Reply
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