After I moved to Brewton, I met some wonderful friends. One was a friend I went to church with and who had also adopted a child. Jenny was adopted from South Korea. Lorena and I also shared a passion for girl scouts and we both had girl scout troops. We had coffee together every morning and Lynda played happily in what I called "her really nice back yard".When she said she was going blueberry picking, I wanted to go along. I had never picked blueberries or even seen blueberries growing. I was naive, so naive. We took Lynda and Jenny. It was hot but Lynda didn't care. She was used to playing outside in the heat. We left her and all of her toys in the car with all of the windows rolled down and we weren't further than 10 - 15 feet away from her. Going blueberry picking was one of the worst decisions I'd ever made. Letting Lynda play in the car instead of the blueberry bushes was the best one.
Lorena didn't mention the fact that we would have more chiggers than blueberries when we were finished. I have never had more in my life. My legs were covered in red spots and for all my trouble I had one bucket of blueberries. I had a short career as a blueberry picker deciding that buying them already picked was definitely worth the money.
When Lynda and I got home, I put the bucket of blueberries on the top of a kitchen cabinet and went back to the back of the house to wash my legs off and find something for the itch. When I came back to the kitchen, there sat Lynda and the blueberries. She had the bucket sitting on the floor and had made a line of blueberries---one at a time all across the kitchen floor. Some had met an untimely demise as she moved from one spot to the other but most of them were intact. A few had made it into her mouth because there were some blue tale tell signs.
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