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I just got off the phone with my mother-in-law who asked me if I was bored yet. I laughed. Well, I did clean the grout on the bathroom floor. Does that mean I’m bored?
Actually, my summer list is long and growing. This morning I accomplished one of my goals, blueberry picking. I do this every year the week after school gets out because this is the time when the blueberries ripen. In 2014, I wrote a poem about this ritual that begins with…
Some things wear their becoming,
like this blueberry, for example,
plump and perfectly indigo
surrounded by pinky-red brothers and sisters,
it boasts to be chosen
falls easily into my palm
joyfully plinks the plastic bucket.See the rest of the poem here.
My friend Suzanne came along. She couldn’t believe she had never done this before. It was fun to share the joy of fresh blueberries with her. Here is the Facebook page for Bayou Blues Blueberry Farm.
A Painteresque view of me picking blueberries.
Blueberry sky
Kitchen brightened by fresh fruit and fresh flowers.
Slowing down, enjoying simple things, and savoring summer days. No, I’m not bored yet.
Reflections on the Teche 